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DUKE 

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LIBRARY 


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LETTERS 

TO  A 

YOUNG  LADY, 

ON   A   VARIETY  OF 

O8KF0L  AND  INTERESTING 
SUBJECTS. 

•  ALCULATFD  TO  IMPROVE  TIT C  HEART,   TO    FORM 

THE  MANORS   AND  ENLIGHTLN 

THL  UKDr.R-TANDlNG. 

"That  our  DAUGHTERS  m<y  be  as  polished  Corners  of 
the  Temple.'* 

13Y  THE  REV.  JOHN  DENNETT. 


SIXTH  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


TWO  VOLUMES  COMPLETE  IN  ONE. 


MUD  SO. Y: 
PRIN1E.D  BY  WILLIAM  E.  NORMAN, 

No  2,   WARRES'Sl'IlER*. 

*81U 


_.      B4HL- 


THE  following  LETTER'S  have  long lain  by  the  au- 
thor in  a  state  of  negtact  ;  indeed  of  uncertainty,  wheth- 
er the  publication  of  them  would  do  any  credit  to  him- 
self, or  service  to  the  world.  Nor  dots  he  think,  that 
he  should  ever  have  presumed  to  expose  them  before 
the  formidable  tribunal  of  the  public,  unless  animated  by 
the  name  of  the  very  exalted  and  amiable  personage,  to 
whom  they  are  addressed.*" 

If  they  deserve  no  fame,  they  ought,  however,  in  his 
opinion  to  be  branded  with  no  malignant  or  invidious  cen- 
sure, «s  their  intention  isreally  to  serve  the  fairest  and  most 
amiable  part  of  the  creation  ;  to  rouse  young  ladies  from  a 
vacant  or  insipid  life,  into  one  of  usefulness  and  laudable 
exertion —  to  recall  them  from  visionary  novels  and  ro- 
mances, into  solid  reading  and  reflection  — and  from  the 
criminal  absurdities  of  fashion,  to  the  simplicity  of  nj 
ture  and  the  dignity  of  virtue.  He  has  attempted ame! 
od  of  uniting,  in  their  character,  the  graces  with  the  vir- 
tues ;  an  amiable  heart  with  elegant  manners  and  an  en- 
lightened understanding  ;  and  if  he  should  not  have 
succeeded,  is  by  no  means  the  first  person  who  has  mis- 
judged  his  powers,  "  qui  magnis  excidit  ausis  f*  and  can 
reflect  for  h"i3  comfort,  that  laudable  projects  are  per- 
haps the  whole,  that  lies  within  the  narrow  circle,  or 
the  talents  of  the  bulk  of  mortals. 

*  This  Work  was  originally  dedicated  to  the  Queen 
of  England. 


t 


Contents. 


THIS   WORK  RECOMMENDS,  1*  THE  FOLLOWIKG  ORDER, 

I.  RELIGIOUS  KNOWLEDGE,  with  a  list  of 
proper  writers*. 

IT.  Polite  knowledge,  as  it  relates  to  the  Belles 
Lettres  in  g'-neral  :  Epistolary  Writing,  History,  the 
Lives  of  particular  Persons,  Geography,  Natural  His* 
fory,  Astronomy,  Poetry,  Painting,  Sculpture,  Archi- 
tecture, Heraldry,  Voyages,  Travels,  8tc.  with  a  catu. 
logue  of,  and  criticisms  upon,  the  raost  approved  au» 
triors  under  each  article. 

III.  Accomplishments,  as  displayed  ia  Needle-, 
work,  Embroidery,  Drawing,  Muiic,  Dancing,  Dress^ 
Politeness,  &:. 

IV.  Prudential  conduct  and  maxims,  with  res* 
pext  to  Amusements,  Love,  Courtship,  Marriage,  &c. 


LETTERS 

TO  A 

YOUNG    LADY. 

LETTER  I. 

To  Miss  Lucy 


MY  DF.AR  LUCY, 

THOUGH  I  myself  have  sustained  an  heavy  loSs  m 
the  death  of  your  excellent  mother,  who  lived  so  much 
in  my  Friendship  and  esteem,  and  by  he,r  fetters  and  so- 
ciety had  conferred  upon  me  some  of  the  sweetest  pleas- 
urea  in  human  life,  yet  you  alas  !  are  the  principal  suf- 
ferer by  this  afflicting  dispensation.  It  would  give  me 
the  sincerest  pleasure,  if  I  knew  how  to  alleviate  your 
grief,  or  afford  you  a  single  moments  consblati  m* 

I  need  not  press  on  you  the  doctrines  of  religion. — 
You  have,  doubtless,  considered  who  it  is,  that  has  de- 
prived you  of  this  invaluable  parent ;  a  God  of  infinite 
wisdom  who  never  strikes,  but  at  the  fittest  moment;  a 
Gvjd  of  equal  goodness,  who  without  tire  strongest  rea- 
sons, would  not  afflict;  and  a  being  of  unbounded  pow- 
er, who  is  abundantly  able  to  make  up  your  loss,  an 
open  to  you  a  thousand  sources  of  comfort. 

Christianity  should  exclude  all  unreasonable  sorrow, 
If  we  believe  that  our  friends  are  dead  in  God:  we 
know  th-u  this  life  is  o-ly  a  vapour,  that  our  separation 
is  but  for  a  moment,  and  that  we  shall  soon  be  restored 
to  them  in  a  world,  where  life  is  without  pain, 
where  friendship  is  immortal. 

A3 


O  LETTErs  TO   A  YOUNG   LADY. 

Though  you  are  in  the  literal  sense,  an  orphan,  yet^ 
the  number  of  friends,  to  whtm  you  are  so  justly  dear, 
will  render  your  situation  neither  solitary,  nor  defence- 
less. The  sensible,  the  elegant  and  the  good,  will  think 
themselves  honored  by  your  acquaintance.  They  will 
give  you  credit  for  inheriting  all  the  amiable  qualities  of 
a  mother,  who  was  revered,  as  far  as  known,  whilst  na- 
ture has  so  strongly  imprinted,  on  your  face  the  re- 
semblance of  her  features. 

The  scene  is  still  frc*.h  upon  my  memory,  when  in  her 
last  moments,  she  so  strongly  recommended  you  to  my 
protection.  And  though  she  paid  a  compliment  to  my 
abilities,  v.  hich  only  a  partial  friendship  could  have  exci- 
ted, she  did  nothing  more  than  strict  justice  to  ths 
warmth  of  my  affection.  I  shall  really  think  myself 
complimented  by  your  correspondence.  If  you  will  call 
me  lather  or  brother  von  wiil  give  an  unusual  lustre  to 
my  name.  This  fond  heart  shall  vibrate  to  your  wishes 
and  your  happiness  :  and  if  you  will  occasionally  visit 
my  little  cot,  it  shall  put  on  all  its  loveliest  charms,  and 
smile  in  its  gayest  attire,  to  receive  so  dear  and  so  ami- 
i  ble  a  stranger.  1  he  roses  of  my  humble,  garden  shall, 
ii  possible,  b'e  doubly  sv/eet ;  my  jessamines  shall  emit 
an  unusual  fragrance  ;  and  if  nature  will  but  obey,  I  will 
order  the  general  scenery  to  be  delightful. 

shall  reap,  fam  assured,  mutual  benefits  by  this 

.  ince.     If  I  am  able  to  communicate  to  you  any 
!ge,  you  will  more  than  repay  it  by  that  ease, 

.  refinement,   confidence,   and  expansion,  which 
the  r  effectually  feels,  butin  the   friendship  of 

a  sensi  ic  and  aa  iiu<  resting  woman. —  Such  a  friendship 
is  the  richest  cordial  of  life.  Either  of  the  sexes  »viih- 
'  it,  arc  never  what  they  should  be.  Like  the  best 
figure*,  mutilafed\  they  appear  to  disadvantage.  Unnat- 
ural expedi<  nts  may  be  tried  to  supply  its  place.  Busi- 
ness, ambition,  an  overstrained  prudence,  ^r  peculiar  sir* 
nations  may  lead  us  to  deny  ourselves  so  sweet  a  pleas- 
ure; but,  m  fact, nil  human  projects  and  successes  are 
ihsipid  *\  bout   it.     They  are  roseless  thorns,  a  whr.ctr 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  7 

without  a  spring.  Pleasures  have  not  their  relish,  and 
sorrow  wants  abosom  to  recline  on.  Our  manners  have 
not  their  proper  softness ;  oik  morals  their  purity,  and 
our  souls  feci  an  uncomfortable  void. 

Thev,  who  talk  degradinglv  of  women,  do  not  know 
the  value  of  the  treasure  they  despise.  Thvy  have  not 
sufficient  taste  to  relish  their  excellencies,  or  pwritr  e- 
nough  to  court  their  acquaintance.  They  fcave  taken 
the  portraits  of  abandoned  women,  sn  \  they  think  their 
features  applicable  to  all. 

The  softer  sex,  it  is  certain,  are  exceedingly  injurri] 
hv  their  education.  If  they  were  what  they  should  be, 
thev  are  those  lights  in  the  picture  of  human  life,  that 
are  intended  to  cheer  all  iu  darkness  and  its  shades. 


LETTER  II. 

THE  education  of  women  is  unfortunately  directed 
rathe r  to  such  accomplishments-as  will  enable  them  to  make 

a  noise  and  sparkle  in  the  world,  than  to  those  qualities, 
which  might  ensure  their  comfort  here,^md  happiness 
hereafter*  Boarding  schools  con*ultJjuU  little  those  do- 
mestic qualifications,  which  are  confessedly  the^fctighest 
point  of  usefulness  in  your  sex  and  still  less  that  solid 
piety  and  virtue,  which  alone,  to  an  intelligent  creature, 
can  be  the  source  of  any  real  heart-felt  enjoyment. 

Though  religion  is  indispensably  necessary  to  both 
sexes,  and  in  every  possible  character  and  station,  vet  a 
woman  seems,  more  peculiarly,  to  need  its  enlivcpiajg 
supports,  whilst  her  frame  must  be  confessed  to  be  ad- 
mirably calculated  for  the  exercise  of  all  the  tender  and 
devout  affections. 

The  timidity,  arising  from  the  natural  weakness  and 
delicacy  of  yoar  frame  ;  the  numerous. diseases j to  which 
you  are  liable  ;  that  exquisite  sensibility,  whicbin  many 
of  you  vibrates  to  the  slightest  touch  of  joy^ftorrow  ; 
the  tremulous  anxiety  you  have  for  friends^cjWdren,  a 
fanvty,  which  nothing  can  relieve,  but  a  scnjfa  of  their 


8  LETTER?  TO    A   YOUNG  LADY. 

being  under  the  protection  of  God  ;  the  sedentariness 
of  your  life,  naturally  followed  with  lew  spirits  or  ennui, 
whilst  we  are  seeking  health  and  pleasure  in  the  field  ; 
and  the  many  lonely  hours,  which  in  almost  every  situ- 
ation, are  likely  to  be  your  lot,  will  expose  you  to  a 
number  of  pc  uliar  sorrows,  which  you  cannot,  like  the 
men,  either  drown  in  wine,  or  divert  by  dissipation. 

From  the  era,  that  you  become  marriageable,  the 
sphere  of  your  anxieties  and  afflictions  will  be  enlarged. 
The  generality  of  men  are  far  from  acting  on  such  strict 
principles  of  honor  and  integrity,  in  their  connexions  with 
you,  as  they  would  rigidly  observe,  in  matters  of  a  mucli 
iiiore  trival  importance.  Some  delight  in  sporting  with 
your  nicest  sensibilizes,  and  afterwards  exposing  with 
an  illiberal  triumph,  the  fondness  of  a  credulous  and  un- 
suspecting heart ;  others,  from  fashion  merely,  and  to 
be  called  men  of  gallantry,  will  say  a  thousand  civil 
things,  and  show  as  many  preferences;  with  no  other 
view,  than  to  amuse  the  moment,  or  acquire  a  fantastic, 
visionary  honor.  A  third  sort  of  men  (yes  it  is  possible 
that  there  should  be  male  coquettes  !)  will  do  and  say 
every  thing  to  inspire  you  with  fondness,  and  get  pos- 
session of  your  heart,  without  proceeding  to  that  ex- 
planation, which  nature  has  intended  to  come  from  us, 
and  which  the  delicacy  of  your  sex,  whatever  you  may 
suffer,  will  not  permit  you  to  demand.  Others,  without 
any  particular  designs  upon  you,  or  improper  attentions, 
(for  attachments  spring  up  insensibly,  and  are  as  possi- 
ble in  one  sex,  as  the  other)  may  be  too  agreeable  for 
your  safety  and  repose,  and  leave  you  to  a  silent,  heart- 
felt concern,  which  will  prev  doubly  in  proportion  to  its 
concealment — or  even  when  the  indissoluble  knot  of 
marriage  is  tied,  and  you  have  resigned  every  thing,  till 
it  comes  to  your  name  and  person,  it  may  be  to  a  man 
ol  mere  integrity,  who  knows  nothing  of  those  man/,  lit- 
tle, u  nder  a'untions,  which  involve  so  great  a  shure  of 
a  woman's  happiness— r  it  may  be  to  a  person  of  great 
ambition,  who  has  neither  leisure  nor  inclination  for 
soft  domestic  scenes  -  it  may  bw  to  a  fashionable  Insipid) 


LITTERS  TO  A  YOUtfG  LADY.  9 

^ho,  for  the  sake  of  flirting  with  some  elegant  fai%  and 
giving  your  jealousy  the  widest  range,  leave!  voar 
chirms  and  the  endearments  of  his  children  to  parish  in 
neglect— —nay,  stakes  perhaps,  his  very  last  thousand  on 
the  uncertainty  of  game,  when  the  unhappy  throw  may 
consign  both  you  and  your  helpless  babes  to  poverty  and 
ruin,  or  it  may  be  to  a  person  of  a  peevish,  ill  natured,  sat- 
urnine cast,  artfully  concealed,  till  he  had  you  in  posses- 
sion, which  no  attention  can  alter,  no  charms  can  sweet- 
en, and  no  vivacity  can  cheer.  Under  these,  or  indeed 
anv  other  distresses,  religion  is  the  only  true  and  unfail- 
ing resource  ;  and  its  hopes  and  prospects,  the  only  sol- 
id basis  of  consolation.  In  your  many,  solitary  mo- 
ments, what  can  afford  the  mind  so  sovereign  a  relief,  as 
the  exercise  of  devotion  to  an  all  present  God  ?  and, 
when  domestic;  sorrows  cluster  upon  you,  which  you 
cannot  reveal  to  any  friend  on  earth,  what  method  have 
Von  left,  but  to  pour  them  into  the  bosom  of  your  father 
In  heaven,  who  is  confessedly  the  friend  of  the  friend- 
less, always  willing  to  hear  their  cries,  and  always  able 
to  protect. 

The  period,  my  dear  girl,  I  trust,  is  distant,  when 
such  afflictions  shall  attack  your  glowing  sensibility* 
They  may,  come,  however,  when  I  am  no  more  ;.  when 
this  tongue  cannot  give  a  word  of  comfort,  nor  these 
eves  drop  a  sympathising  tear.  If  they  should,  remem- 
ber my  advice,  and  let  your  friendship  strew  a  few  pur- 
ple fljwers  over  the  grave  of 

Your  very  faithful  and  affectionate 


LETTER  III. 

I  CONSIDERED  devotion  in  my  last  letter,  only 
as  an  advantage  for  relieving  solitude,  or  as  the  best  re- 
Source  under  anv  afflictions.  Hut  it  is  indeed,  in  itself, 
one  of  th  highest  and  most  exquisite  pleasures;  open- 
ing the  mind  ;u  the  sublimest  contemplations-  expanding 


10  LITTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

It  with  the  most  delightful  hopes,  an  J  soothing  all  its 
powers  with  feelings  and  consolations,  that  are  infinite- 
ly beyond  the  reach,  the  nature  and  the  littleness  ci"  all 
hum  in  thing*. 

There  must  be  a  thousand  moments  in  the  life  of  ev- 
ery  person,  that  is  not  elevated  by  this  devotion,  when 
al)  earthly  blessings  will  be  cold  and  insipid,  and  the 
soul  must  feel  an  inexpressible  languor,  though  posses- 
sed of  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  wo; Id,  and  the  glories  of 
them. 

Though  some  fanatics  have  made  the  love  of  God  r». 
diculous  by  couching  it  in  too  sensual,  rapturous,  or  ex- 
travagant language,  yet  such  a  passion  there  is,  ground- 
ed on  the  most  rational  principles,  and  springing  from 
the  purest  source  ;  without  which  our  lives  would  fre- 
quently be  miserable,  and  our  duties,  the  formal,  uriani- 
mated  sen  ice  of  a  body  without  a  soul. 

Jf  we  admire  what  is  great,  sublime  and  magnificent 
on  other  occasions  ;  if  we  love  what  is  amiable,  disin- 
terested, benevolent  and  merciful  in  many  of  our  fellow 
creatures,  whom  we  have  never  seen,  what  principle  ei- 
ther of  reason  or  philosophy  forbids  us  to  admire  and 
love  the  same  in  God,  who  is  the  primary  author  of  all 
amiableness,  and  at  once  the  source  and  fulness  of  all 
possible  perfection  ;  and,  if  we  acknowledge  him  as 
the  parent  of  all  real  happiness,  where  is  the  absurdity 
of  cultivating  an  intercourse  and  friendship  with  him,  in 
order  to  obtain  that  happines?,  by  prayer,  reflection  and 
pious  aspirations  ? 

Thou  shah  love  the  Lord  thy  God,  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  thy  soul  :  This  is  the  first  and  great  com- 
mandment. 

Jf  a  virtuous  attachment  to  an  imperfect  creature  here 
is  attended  with  such  transports  ;  if  friendships  pure  and 
disinterested,  has  such  exquisite  enjoyments,  the  pleas- 
ure, resulting  from  an  intimacy  with  God  must  far  sur- 
pass all  human  comprehension,  and  be  infinitely  more 
i  x  lted  and  sublime.  It  is  heaven,  compared  with  earth, 
or  the  immensity  of  space,  with  the  little  narrow  boun- 
daries of  a  prison,  or  a  convent. 


tlTTERf    TO    A   YOVNG   LADY.  ll 


LETTER  IV. 

KEVER  fancy,  that  religion  will  render  yon  gloomy 
or  un  pleasing,  ll  indeed  you  take  it  from  the  coarse 
flauHings  (if  superstition  or  of  enthusiasm,  it  u  a  fright- 
ful monster,  or  a  melancholy  spectre,  that  will  discc.ur- 
age  people  from  approaching  you.  If  you  deduce  it 
from  the  scriptures,  and  ground  it  upon  reason,  solid 
argument  and  truth,  it  will  become  a  source  of  perpetu- 
al cheerfulness  to  yourself,  that  will  be  reflected  on 
every  person  and  object  about  you. 

Never  fail  to  treat,  with  the  greatest  reverence,  every 
thing,  that  relates  to  the  house  of  God,  to  his  ministers, 
to  his  sacraments,  and  to  his  word.  To  mention  any' 
thing,  that  is  sacred,  with  levity^  is  a  certain  mark  of  a 
depraved  heart,  and  a  weak  understanding.  A  witty 
sneer  or  sarcasm  on  such  subjects,  is  not  to  be  forgiv- 
en. It  shocks  all  the  sensible  and  better  part  of  man- 
kind, and  is  a  species  of  blasphemy  or  sacrilege. 

You  remember  who  has  said,  that  "  every  woman  is 
at  heart  a  rake."  This  sentence  is  severe,  and  not  to 
be  admitted  without  restrictions.  Pope  was  a  rancor- 
ous satirist  of  women.  Whatever  be  his  met  it  in  the 
wot  Id  of  letters,  they,  at  least,  owe  no  extraordinary 
-gratitude  to  his  memory  or  talents.  "  Tread  lightlv 
upon  the  ashes  of  the  dead,"  is  a  maxim  I  revere.  I 
w®uld  otherwise  retaliate  his  insults  on  the  sex,  and  be- 
come the  champion  of  their  injured  honor.  I  would  in* 
sinu.tte,  that  the  poet  was  little  and  d-jformed,  and  had 
experienced  few  of  their  caresses  or  attentions.  Other 
writers,  however,  hive  charged  you  with  a  strong  pre- 
ference for  dissipated  men.  But  this,  surely  is  the  un- 
g  nerous  aspersion  of  your  enemies,  or  of  those,  who 
have  not  known  the  most  deserving  amongst  you,  and 
have  formed  an  unjust  and  unfavorable  conclusion,  from 
the  ummiableness  of  a  few. 

Torn-  example,  1  trust,  will  ahvavs  contrarlirt  such  in* 
■discriminate  censure*     The  idea,  if  we   could  admit  it 


12  1ETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

in  its  full  extent,  would  be  unfriendly  to  the  social  nap* 
pine^s  of  life.  It  would  destroy  that  esteem  and  co:,fi- 
derce  in  your  virtues,  v%hich  the  best  and  wisest  men 
have  uniformly  thnight  no  inadequate  counterpoise  to 
their  soi  rows,  and  their  cares  Abaci  man  is  tcrti'j'e 
in  society  ;  but  an  unprincipled  woman  h  n  monster. 
The  peace,  happiness  and  honor  of  our  srx,  are' so  very 
rnuch  in  the  p;)wer  of  yours  after  ittarri .rje,  that  the 
im -st  abandoned  libertine  shudders  at  the  thought  of  an 
union  with  a  woman,  who  has  not  piety  and  virtue.  His 
intimacy  with  some  females,  of  a  certain  description* 
has  given  him  such  a  disgusting  picture,  as  will  never 
be  forgotten.  In  his  moments  of  reflection,  he  exe- 
crates his  folly,  and,  when  he  deliberates,  whom  he 
should  chuae  for  the  companion  of  Art  life,  appenls 
from  the  treacherous,  riffled  bosom  of  an  harlot,  to  one, 
that  will  be  always  faithful,  and  always  serene.  With- 
out piety,  indeed,  a  woman  can  never  fully  possess  the 
true  powers  of  pleasing.  She  will  want  that  meek  be- 
nt volt-nce,  sympathy  and  softness,  which  give  an  inex- 
pressible lustre  to  her  features,  and  such  a  wonderful 
ascendency  over  our  affections.  We  shall  not  other- 
wise approach  her  with  confidt-nrc,  <>r  dare  to  repose 
any  of  our  secret*,  our  concerns  or  our  sorrows,  in  her 
p\  mpathizing  breast. 


LF.Tr£ll  V. 

MY    DEAR    GIRL, 

IJb  your    n,iod   is   in    a  proper  frame,  every  thing  in 
you   and  about   you   will  jnculc ate    the   necessity,  unci 
prompt  you  to  the  continual  exercise  of,  devotion.  Yon 
will  tin:!  )  ourseli  encompassed  with  innumerable  fears, 
v  e.;kuesAes,  wants,  Borrows,   diseases,  wishes,   hope1 
under  which  all  human  creatures  v ill  be    unable   to  at 
ss',   or  give   you   any   adequate  ra;i-.-f  ;   but  w  bete  v< 
you.  cast  your  eyes,  you  will,  at  the  same    time,   be  eK 
viioucd  with  the  immensity  of  a  B:ing,  who  is  possess 


LZl'lTRS  tO  A,  TOC*NG   LADY  13 

td  c  f  all  possible  perfectionsi  and  who  holdeth  the  is- 
sues of  lite  and  death,  of  happiness  and  misery,  solely 
in  his  hands. 

The  power,  majesty,  grandeur  and  wisdom  of  this 
Being  are  discernible  in  every  part  of  your  frame,  in 
ivory  function  of  your  body,  and  operation  of  your 
mind,  nay,  in  the  curious  and  exquisite  formation  of 
every  animal  and  insect.  rI  hey  are  seen,  on  a  still  sub* 
timer  stale,  in  the  bize,  the  distances,  grandeur,  and 
wonderful  revolution  of  the  heavenly  bodies  ;  in  the 
beautifully  variegated  canopy  of  heaven,  in  all  the  deli- 
cious landskips  of  nature,  in  the  pleasing  succession  of 
day  aud  night,  spring  and  autumn,  summer  and  winter. 
In  short,  winds  and  storms,  thunder  and  lightning, 
earthquakes  and  volcanoes,  the  grund,  magnificent  o- 
cean,  waves  and  comets,  fulfilling  his  word,  appearing 
and  receding  at  his  sovereign  command  ;  flowers,  blos- 
soms, fruits,  fossils,  minerals,  petrifactions,  precipices, 
hills,  caverns*  vallies,  all  tell  you,  that  their  Former  is 
immensely  magnificent,  "  that  he  doeth  what  he  will  in 
the  armies  of  heaven,  and  amongst  the  inhabitants  of 
the  earth,  and  that  none  can  withstand  the  thunder  of 
his  power." 

This  God  then  is  able  to  gratify  your  wishes,  and 
support  you  under  all  your  suffering  ;  he  has  wisdom 
enough  to  protect  and  guide  you  ;  the  question  then  is  ; 
is  he  willing  I  On  this  head,  hearken  to  all  nature,  for 
it  speaks  aloud.  Look  through  the  numberless  orders 
and  gradations  of  animals,  insects,  nay  the  meanest  rep- 
tilts,  and  you  will  be  astonished  with  the  attention  thai 
has  been  lavished  on  them,  in  the  contrivance  of  their 
frame,  the  allotment  of  their  situation,  and  the  provis- 
ion, made  for  their  continual  support.  Tkerj  are  happy. 
Shiit  your  eye  to  all  the  inanimate  creation,  and  you 
will  find  it  a  scene  of  harmony,  of  order  and  beauty, 
god  seemingly  constructed  for  our  gratification.  Love- 
ly picturesque  views  delight  our  imagination  ;  shrub* 
and  plants  and  flowers  regale  us  with  aromatic  smells. 
But  u  poet  of  very  descriptive  talents,  shall  speak  on 
this  occasion  ; 

B 


14  LEtTERl    TO    A    YOUNG    LA  TV. 

Wherefore  nature's  form 
So  exquisitely  fair  ?  her  breath  perfum'd 
TA'ith  such  ethereal  sweetness  ?  whence  her  voice, 
Inform'd  at  will,  to  raise  or  to  depress 
Th'  impcssion'd  soul,  and  whence  the  robes  of  lightj 
Which  thus  invest  her  with  more  lovely  pomp, 
Than  fancy  can  describe  ?   whence  but  from  T/icef 
O  source  divine  of  never  failing  love, 
And  thy  unraeasur'd  gv)odness  ?  not  content 
With  ev'ry  food  of  life  to  nourish  man, 
Thou  mak'st  all  nature,  beauty  to  his  eye, 
Or  music  to  his  ear  ;  well  pleas  d  he  scans 
The  goodly  prospect,  and  with  inward  smiles, 
Treads  the  gay  verdure  of  the  painted  plain, 
Beholds  the  azure  canopy  ot  heav'n, 
And  living  lamps,  that  overarch  his  head 
With  a  more  than  regal  splendor,  knds  his  ears 
To  the  full  choir  of  water,  air,  and  earth. 

In  evVy  p.'.rt 
We  trace  the  bright  impressions  of  his  hand, 
In  earth,  or  air,  the  meadow's  purple  stores, 
The  moon's  mild  radiance^  or  the  virgin  form, 
Blooming  with  rosy  smiles,  we  see  pourtray'd 
That  uncreated  beauty,  which  delights 
The  mind  supreme — 

Indeed,  if  you  reason  for  a  moment,  why  could  the  Al-» 
mighty  create  at  all,  but  to  diffuse  and  variegate  enjoy- 
ment ?  Inexhaustible  source  of  happiness,  from  all  e- 
teraity,  he  needed  not,  and,  in  fact,  could  aot  receive^ 
an  addition  to  his  own*  In  himself  supremely  blessed, 
fountain  of  eternal  majesty  and  splendor,  adored  by 
se raphs,  surrounded  by  myriads  of  angels  and  archan- 
gels, what  dignity  could  he  derive  from  the  existence, 
or  services  of  man,  who  is  but  a  worm,  or  the  produc- 
tion often  thousand  worlds  ?  It  was  infinite  wisdom, 
therefore,  that  sketched  out  the  plan  of  universal  nature, 
and  all-  communicative  goodness;,  that  bade  so  many 
worlds   exist,  and   bade   thero    to  be   happy.     The  su» 


LETTERS    TO    A    YQUtftS    LADY.  15 

preme  and  gracious  Former  wished  to  communicate 
some  scattered  rays  of  his  glory  and  his  blessedness  to 
this  extended  world  of  matter  and  of  life,  and  has  there- 
fore replenished  every  leaf,  every  drop  of  water^  and 
circry  possibility  of  space  with  shoals  of  inhabitants ;  for 

Scarce  buds  a  leaf,  or  springs  the  lowest  weed, 
But  little  flocks  upon  his  besom  (^cd  ; 
No  fruit  our  palate  courts,  or  taste  or  smell, 
But  on  its  fragrant  bosom,  nations  dwc!!. 

Is  it  not  then  a  certain  conclusion,  that  he  created 
you,  as  well  as  all  inferior  animals,  for  happiness  ?  On 
this  you  mav  depend,  as  much  as  you  can  upon  the  cer~ 
t'rinty  cf  your  existence  ;  and  that  he  is  always  more 
iviiiing  to  be  your  protector,  than  you  are  ready  to  re- 
quest it. 

Open  the  sacred  book,  and  from  beginning  to  end,  it 
will  confirm  this  opinion,  and  exalt  your  ideas  of  the 
divine  perfections.  "  1  delight  in  exercising  loving- 
kindness,  saith  the  Lord. — The  Lord  is  good  to  all, 
and  his  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works.  If  he 
clothes  the  grass  of  the  field,  which,  to-day,  is, and  to- 
morrow is  cast  into  the  oven,  how  much  more  shall 
he  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ?"  That  religion  is 
built  on  wrong  notions,  or  a  melancholy  temper,  that  fills 
us  with  imaginary  terrors.  All  nature  breathes  a  lan- 
guage of  hope  and  mercy.  And  nature  is  the  messen- 
ger of  God. 

It  is  true  there  is  evil  in  the  world,  as  well  as  good  ; 
there  are  marks  of  judgment ',  as  well  as  mercy.  There 
are  hurricanes,  as  well  as  fanning  breezes  ;  noxious  are 
intermixed  with  useful  animals  ;  poisonous  and  salutary 
herbs  grow  beside  each  other,  and  roses  have  their 
thorns.  There  are  wars  and  rumors  of  wars  ;  there  are 
earthquakes,  that  desolate  whole  countries  ;  a  thousand 
forms  of  disease  ;  a  thousand  modifications  of  sorrow, 
anxiety,  death.  If  he,  who  sits  at  the  helm,  be  so  gra- 
cious, whence  all  this  disorder  ,?  If  his  infinite  power  be 


ttTTF.il    TO    A    YOUNG    LAtiY. 

combined  with  equal  wisdom  and  goodness,  why  did  he 
not  prevent  it  ? 

If  men  were  not  to  be  free  agents,  the  total  preven- 
tion of  sin  and  evil  seems  an  impossibility.  Moral  liber- 
ty could  not  consist  with  a  mechanical,  forced  obedi- 
ence ;  and  if  v  e  had  not  been  free,  the  idea  of  punish- 
ments or  rewards,  of  a  heaven  or  an  hell,  would  be  the 
greatest  of  all  possible  absurdities.  So  that  the  ques- 
tion ultimately  amounts  to  this,  whether  it  was  proper 
for  the  Almighty  to  create  such  a  world  at  all  ?  Had 
we  not  better  reserve  the  propriety  of  this  conduct  to 
be  disputed  with  hira,  at  his  great  tribunal  ?  There,  I 
doubt  not,  wre  shall  be  amply  convinced,  that  the  crea- 
tion was  a  work  of  infinite  mercy,  as  well  as  power,  and 
that  a  greater  degree  of  happiness,  than  misery  has  a- 
risen  from  it.  There  too,  when  we  are  able  to  discern 
with  glorified  eyes,  the  whole  chain  of  causes  and  ef- 
fects, from  the  beginning,  to  the  end  of  time  ;  the  de- 
pendence of  one  link  of  being  on  another,  and  of  worlds, 
on  worlds  ;  this  evil  we  now  complain  of,  may  become 
a  means  of  exalting  our  ideas  of  the  attributes  of  the 
Almighty  ;  and  we  shall  Mush  at  ourselves  for  even 
having  questioned  his  goodness  for  a  moment,  or  en- 
couraged a  reasoning  pri-de,  so  ill  becoming  creatures, 
whose  days  are  few,  whose  strength  is  weakness,  whose 
wisdom  folly  ;  and  who,  in  the  present  immurement  of 
their  understanding,  scarcely  know  the  nature  of  a 
blade  of  grass,  or  of  the  very  ptbbles,  on  which  they 
tread. 

This  question  concerning  the  origin  of  evil  has  puz- 
zled the  whole  tribe  of  reasoners  and  philosophers,  from 
the  creation,  to  the  present  moment.  i  he  scripture  a- 
lone  has  solved  the  enigma  to  our  satisfaction.  This 
deranged  state  of  things  is  the  providential  punishment 
of  guilt,  but  at  the  same  time,  contrived  in  mercy,  as  a 
salutary  regimen,  and  as  a  mode  of  purifying  fallen 
creatures  for  the  innocence  and  happiness  of  a  better 
world.  It  is  a  chaos,  fitted  to  our  present  constitution, 
and  will  refine  as  ice  do,  into  its  primitive  beauty  and 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  17 

splendor.  "  There  shall  be  new  heavens  and  a  new- 
earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness.  The  wolf  shall 
dwell  with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  lie  down  with  the 
kid,  when  the  earth  is  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord, 
as  the  waters  cover  the  seas."  Resignation,  in  the 
mean  time,  has  a  balm  for  suffering,  and  the  faith  of  a 
christian  u  lookethto  a  better  country,  with  foundations, 
whose  builder  and  maker  is  God." 

But  speculations  apart,  if  you  draw  nigh  to  the  Al- 
mighty, he  will  draw  nigh  to  you  ;  if  you  seek  his  fa- 
vor and  friendship,  all  things  shall  work  together  for 
your  good.  Tribulation,  anguish,  nakedness,  or  famine, 
or  peril,  or  the  sword,  will  all  be  so  many  instruments, 
in  his  hands,  of  procuring  your  eternal  happiness  and 
glory. 

Remember  the  gift  of  his  only  Son,  to  be  a  sacrifice 
for  your  sins,  and  it  is  more  than  a  thousand  lessons  of 
a  mercy  beyond  a  parallel,  and  that  far  exceeds  all  hu- 
man comprehension. 

On  so  delightful  a  subject,  it  is  diilicult  to  stop  one  3 
pen,  or  restrain  the  sallies  of  imagination.  This  idea 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  casts  a  delicious  fragrance  over 
all  the  real  enjoyments  of  life.  It  gives  an  inexpressi- 
ble poignancy  to  friendship,  and  to  the  affection,  with 
which  I  shall  ever  feel  myself  inviolably  yours. 


LETTER  VI. 

MY    DEAR    CTRL, 

DEVOTION,  considered  simply  in  itself,  is  an  in- 
tercourse betwixt  us  and  God  :  betwixt  the  supreme, 
self-existent,  inconceivable  spirit,  which  formed  and 
preserves  the  universe,  and  that  particular  spirit,  with 
which,  for  awful  reasons,  h*  has  animated  a  portion  of 
matter  upon  earth,  that  we  call  man.  It  is  a  silent  act, 
in  which  the  soul  divests  itself  of  outward  things,  flies 
into  heaven,  and  pours  forth  all  its  wants,  wishes,  hopes, 
fears,  guilt  or  pleasures,  into  the  bosom  of  an  almighty 
friend. 

B  3 


18  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

Though  this  devotion,  in  its  first  stages,  may  b*  a 
wearisome  or  insipid  exercise,  yet  this  arises  merely 
from  the  depravity  of  nature,  and  of  our  passions.  A 
little  habit  will  overcome  this  reluctance.  When  you 
hive  fairly  entered  on  your  journey,  "  the  ways  of  this 
wisdom  will  be  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  its  paths, 
peace." 

True  devotion,  doubtless,  requires  a  considerable  de- 
gree of  abstraction  from  the  world.  Hence  modern 
christians  treat  it  as  a  vision.  Hence  many  modern 
writers  have  little  of  its  unction.  But  it  glows  in  trw 
scriptures.  It  warms  us  in  the  fathers.  It  burned  in 
an  Austin,  and  in  many  others  of  those  persecuted  mar- 
tyrs, who  are  now  with  God. 

That  we  hear  little  of  it,  is  not  wonderful.  It  makes 
no  noise  in  the  circles  of  the  learned  or  of  the  elegant. 
Under  an  heap  of  worldly  cares,  we  smother  the  lovely 
Infant,  and  will  not  let  it  breathe.  Vanity,  ambition, 
pleasure,  avarice,  quench  the  celestial  fire.  And  these 
nlas  !  are  too  much  the  god  of  mortals  /  Ever  since  the 
world  began,  writers  have  been  amusing  us  only  with 
■shadows  of  this  piety,  instead  of  giving  us  its  soul  and 
substance.  Superstition  has  placed  it  in  opinions,  cere- 
monies, austerities,  pilgrimages,  persecution,  an  august 
t"rr>p!e,  or  splendid  imagery,  which  had  little  connexion 
with  sentiment  or  spirit.  Enthusiasm  has  swelled  with 
u nnalural  conceptions,  and  obtruded  a  spurious  offspring 
on  the  world,  instead  of  this  engaging  child  of  reason 
and  truth  ;  whilst  the  lukewarm  have  rested  in  a  ftw 
outward  duties,  which  have  had  no  vigor,  and,  as  they 
sprung  not  from  the  heart,  never  entered  the  temple  of 
the  most  High. 

Real  piety  is  of  a  very  different,  and  a  much  more  an* 
i mated,  nature.  It  looks  up  to  God,  sees,  hears,  fetla 
him',  in  every  event,  in  every  vicissitude,  in  all  places,  in 
all  seasons,  and  upon  all  occasions.  It  is  theory,  vivifi- 
ed by  experience.  It  is  faith,  substantiated  by  mental 
trijoymcnt.  It  is  heaven,  transplanted  into  the  human 
L  Ocfom.     It  is  the  radiance  of  the  Divinity)  warming  and 


LETTERS    TO    A    TOUNG    LADY*.  19 

encircling  man.  It  is  spiritual  sense  gratified  by  spirit- 
ual  sensations.  Without  M/.?,  all  ceremonies  are  ineffi- 
cacious. Books,  prayers,  sacraments  and  meditation; 
are  but  a  body  without  a  sou1,  or  a  statue  without  ani- 
mation. 

"That  man  is  capable  of  such  an  intercourse  with  his 
Maker,  there  are  many  living  witnesses  to  prove.  With- 
out having  recourse  to  the  virions  of  fanatics,  or  die 
dreams  or  enthusiasts,  it  may  be  proved  to  spring  from 
natural  and  phifo wphrcal  causes.  God  n  a  spirit  ;  so  is 
the  mind.  Bodies  can  have  intercourse  ;  so  can  souls. 
When  minds  are  in  an  assimilating  state  of  purity,  they 
have  union  with  their  Maker.  Th's  was  the  bliss  of 
paradise  ;  sin  interrupted,  and  holiness  must  restore  it. 
To  a  soul,  thus  disposed,  the  creator  ronmuoicates 
himself,  in  a  manner,  which  is  as  insensible  to  the  nat- 
ural eye,  as  the  falling  of  dews,  but  not  less  refreshing 
to  its  secret  powers,  than  that  is  to  vegetation. 

The  primitive  saints  are  describing  this,  when  they 
speak  of  their  transports.  David  felt  it,  when  he  long- 
ed for  God,  as  the  heart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks. 
St.  Paul  knew  it,  when  he  gloried  in  his  tribulations. 
It  was  embodied  in  him,  when  he  was  carried  up  into  the 
third  heavens,  and  heard  things,  impossible  to  be  utter- 
ed. St.' Stephen  was  filled  with  it,  when  he  saw  the 
heavens  open,  and  prayed  for  his  murderers.  By  it, 
martyrs  were  supported,  when  they  were  stoned,  and 
■awn  asunder.  And  till  we  feel  it  in  ourselves,  we  shall 
never  fully  know,  how  gracious  the  Lord  is. 

If  you  can  acquire  this  spiritual  abstraction,  you  will, 
at  once,  have  made  your  fortune  for  eternity.  It  will 
be  of  little  moment,  what  is  your  lot  on  earth,  or  what 
the  distinguishing  vicissitudes  of  your  life.  Prosperity 
or  adversity,  health  or  sickness,  honor  or  disgrace,  a 
cottage  or  a  crown,  will  all  be  so  many  instruments  ®f 
glory.  The  whole  creation  will  become  a  temple*  Eve- 
ry event  and  every  object  will  lead  your  mind  to  God, 
and  in  his  greatness  and  perfections,  you  will  insensibly 
loose  the  littltness,  the  glare  and  tinsel  of  all  human 
things. 


20  LF.TTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY, 

If  I  wished  only  to  set  off  your  person  to  the  great- 
est advantage,  I  would  recommend  this  true  sublime  of 
religion.  It  gives  a  pleasing  serenity  to  the  counten- 
ance, and  a  cheerfulness  to  the  spirits  beyond  the  reach 
of  art.  or  the  power  of  affection.  It  communicates  a 
real  transport  to  the  mind,  which  dissipation  mirriics 
only  for  a  moment  ;  a  sweetness  to  the  disposition,  and 
a  lustre  to  the  manners,  which  all  the  airs  of  .modern 
politeness  study  but  in  vain.  Easy  in  yourself,  it  will 
make  yo«  in  perfect  good  humor  with  the  world,  and 
when  you  are  diffusing  happiness  around  }ou,  <l  you 
will  only  he  deviling  out  the  broken  fragments,  that  re- 
main after  you  have  eaten." 


LETTER  VII. 

THIS  devotion,  however,  though  essentially  a  silent 
intercourse  betwixt  the  soul  and  God,  yet,  to  creatures, 
consisting  of  matter,  as  well  as  spirit,  must  be  nourish- 
ed by  externa!  forms.  It  must  strike  the  senses,  in  or- 
der to  awaken  the  imagination. 

The  bulk  of  people,  indeed,  are  so  far  materialized,  (if 
I  may  thus  express  it)  and  sunk  in  sense,  that  nothing 
but  outward  ceremonies  would  give  them  any  adequate 
perception  either  of  the  necessity  or  pleasures  of  devo- 
tion ;  and  even  the  most  spiritual,  in  a  state  of  frailty, 
will  need  these  powerful  calls  and  lessons  to  retrace  the 
varnishing  impressions  of  their  duty. 

Public  worship  and  the  sacraments  are  the  grand  out- 
work of  piety.  They  are  the  doors,  by  which  we  enter 
the  sanctuary  of  God.  They  are  the  channels  for  con- 
veying heavenly  grace  and  vigor  to  the  soul.  It  is 
here  the  Redeemer  gives  us  food,  that  nourishes  to  e- 
ternal  life.  It  is  here  he  rains  down  fountains  of  living 
water. 

Whoever  pretends  to  be  abevc  these  forms,  is  the 
fanatic,  who  might  as  well  tell  us,  that  his  animal  life 
can  be  supported  without  food  ;  whoever  despises  them, 
is  the  Infidel,  that  does  every  thing  in  his  power,  to  root 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY.  21 

•at  the  remembrance  of  God  from  the  earth,  and  vio- 
late the  clearest  interests  of  mankind.  Whoever  cm* 
scientiously  attends,  yet  considers  them  only  as  intro- 
ductory to  good,  is  a  true,  rational  christian,  that  uaites 
the  separate  links  of  matter  and  spiri%  and  lets*hia  light 
shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  h":s  good  works, 
and  glorify  his  Father,  who  is  in  heaven. 

Lukewarmness,  an  insensibility  to  all  sacred  things, 
sceptism,  profligacy,  and  licentious  pleasures  are  the  dis- 
criminating traits  of  those,  who  neglect,  from  whatever 
vain  pretences,  these  means  of  grace.  The  best  dispos* 
ed  are  gradually  hardened,  and  the  poor  are  plunged, 
into  such  disorders,  as  bring  them  to  the  fatal  tree. 


LETTER  VIII. 

ANOTHER  excellent  meihod  of  enkindling  piety  i* 
reading  the  scriptures.  A  christian,  indeed,  should 
have  this  sacred  book,  ever  folded  in  his  breast.  There 
is  a  richness  and  a  comfort  in  it,  that  nothing  else  can 
equal.  Every  word  is  big  with  instruction  ;  every  sen- 
tence is  divine.  It  is  a  mine,  perpetually  opening  ;  the 
deeper  we  dig,  the  richer  is  the  ore.  It  is  a  feast,  a- 
dapted  to  every  taste  ;  the  most  exalted  understanding 
must  admire,  and  the  lowest  cannot  fail  to  comprehend, 
its  instructions. 

If  people  oily  read  for  the  sake  of  entertainmenf^ 
where  can  they  find  a  book  equal  to  the  Bible  ?  What 
other  production,  either  ancient  or  modern,  has  such 
striking  passages  of  the  pathetic  and  sublime,  the  vehe- 
ment and  impassioned  ?  Where  ace  there  such  lofty  im- 
ages, such  grand  conceptions,  or  such  picturesque  and 
animated  descriptions,  as  in  the  Psalms  ?  There  is 
scarcely  a  person  in  the  world,  to  whose  case  some  of 
them  are  not  adapted,  nor  a  sorrow  which  they  cannot 
soothe.  In  one  part,  plain', ive,  affecting,  penitential; 
in  another  full  of  triumph  and  exultation,  ennobling,  el- 
evating ;  here  describing  the  immensity,  majesty,  om- 
nipotence and  omnipresence  of  God  \  there   the  little* 


22  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUn'G  LADY. 

ness  of  the  world,  and  the  vanity  of  man  ;  whoever  can 
read  them  without  emotion,  must  be  pronounced  void 
both  of  piety  and  taste. 

The  prophets  are  the  true  sublime  of  holy  reading. — » 
The  bold  images,  metaphors,  allusions  and  descriptions, 
with  which  they  abound,  have  been  the  admiration  of 
the  most  accomplished  scholars,  orators  and  critics  in 
the  world.  The  proverbs  of  Solomon  and  the  book  of 
Ecclesiasticus  are  an  excellent  system  for  the  govern- 
ment of  private  life,  as  well  as  a  fund  of  spiritual  in- 
struction! They  have  all  the  mrrrsxv  of  our  modern 
systems  of  good  breeding,  withnt  any  of  their  poison. 
The  sacred  stories  of  the  scripture  are  related  with  a- 
mazing  simplicity  and  pathos  ;  the  parables  are  beauti- 
fally  pointed  and  instructive  ;  and  the  epistles  of  Sf. 
Paul  are  a  model  of  the  sublimest  and  most  energetic 
eloquence,  that  can  be  found  in  any  age,  or  in  any  lan- 
guage. 

When  the  immortal  Locke  and  Newton,  had  dived 
into  every  other  kind  of  knowledge,  they  sat  down  to 
complete  the  vanity  and  poverty  of  all,  in  the  richness 
of  the  scriptures.  The  famous  Bacon,  an  oracle  of 
learning,  in  his  day,  and  the  wonder  of  all  succeeding  a- 
ges,  confessed  them  to  be  the  source  of  all  real  wisdom. 
The  illustrious  Selden,  on  his  death  bed,  assured  arch- 
bishop Usher,  that  the  whole  of  his  immense  library 
could  not  give  him  half  the  comfort,  which  he  derived 
from  one  single  sentence  of  the  inspired  writings ;  and 
Addison,  whose  name  must  be  ever  dear  to  every  friend 
of  religion  and  virtue,  spent  no  little  time  in  collecting 
together,  and  arranging  into  one  common  point  of  view, 
the  united  evidences  of  the  christian  religion. 

The  primitive  christians  used  to  read  this  book,  on 
their  knees.  The  preface  was,  "  Opea  thou  mine  eyes, 
that  I  may  see  the  wondrous  things  of  thy  law.'1  Imi- 
tate them  on  earth,  and  in  time  you  shall  join  that  il- 
lustrious choir  of  saints,  that  are  continually  worship* 
ping  before  the  throne  in  heaven, 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOL'NG^LADT.  23 


LETTER  IX. 

THE  old  Scriptures  may  appear,  in  themselves,  dry 
and  insipid  ;  but  when  you  consider  them,  as  typical  of 
the  new,  and  affording  a  strong  collateral  testimony  to 
the  truth  of  revelation  j  as  describing  the  circumstances, 
manner  andanecdotes  of  a  peculiar  chosen  people,  whose 
history,  rebellion,  captivity  and  dispersion,  are  interwo- 
ven with  the  whole  system  of  Christianity,  you  will  read 
them  with  a  greater  relish,  and  more  godly   edification* 

Jesus  Christ  is  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and 
prophets ;  all  the  incidents  you  read,  point  to  him  as 
their  origin,  and  as  their  end  ;  "the  great  corner  stone 
in  Ziou  ;  the  lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world." 

The  bondage  of  the  children  of  Israel  in  Egypt,  is 
an  image  of  our  captivity  to  sin  ;  and  their  deliverance, 
of  our  redemption  through  the  blood  of  Christ;  their 
journeying  through  the  wilderness,  is  a  strong  picture  of 
our  wearisome  passage  through  this  vale  of  tears.  Mo* 
ses  is  the  Saviour,  making  waters  of  comfort  gush  from 
the  stony  rock  ;  the  manna  is  the  food  of  his  word,  and 
the  waters  are  the  graces  of  his  holy  spirit ;  the  beauti* 
ful  and  affecting  history  of  Joseph  is  an  emblem  of  that 
better  personage,  who  was  envied,  hated,  persecuted  and 
murdered  by  his  brethren,  for  the  general  salvation  ;  A- 
braham  is  a  striking  image  of  the  Almighty,  offering  up 
his  only  son,  and  ail  the  ceremonies  of  the  law  point  to 
that  true  blood  of  sprinkling*  which  alone  can  take  away 
the  sins  of  the  world.  Thus  is  every  page  holy; 
thus  do  you  tread,  every  moment,  on  consecrated 
ground,  and  thus  every  word,  when  properly  understood, 
is  spirit  and  is  life. 

But  of  all  the  scriptures,  the  gospels  are  certainly  the 
most  edifying  and  instructive.  They  are  plain,  forcible, 
spiritual ;  they  come  from  the  very  mouth  of  holiness 
and  wisdom,  and  do  not  admit  of  any  wrong  construc- 
tions or  doubtful  interpretations.  If  there  was  only  the 
fifth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel  extant,  we  should 


i\  LTTTERS  TO  A  YOUNG   LAD*. 

have  an  incomparable  abridgement  of  chris:ianiiy,  suf- 
ficient to  direct  our  faith,  or  animate  cur  practice,  and 
flash  confusion  on  that  host  of  writers,  who  have  built  so 
many  wrong  and  dangerous  opinions  on  the  pretended 
basis  of  revelation. 

Commentators  may  serve  to  explain  an  eastern  cus* 
torn,  ceremony,  allusion  or  mode  of  expression,  but  I 
cannot  in  general,  recommend  them,  at  least  to  young 
people.  1  hey  embarrass  more  frequently,  than  they 
direct;  they  have  often  perplexed,  what,  in  itself,  was 
clear,  and  darkened,  where  they  affected  to  illuminate. 
The  sayings  of  our  Lord,  are  so  very  obvious  as  to  need 
little,  or  no  explanation.  They  are  a  precious  wine, 
which  the  profane  wisdom  of  scholars  and  philosophers 
has  mixed  with  water.  If  men  had  only  studied  them 
with  earnestness,  instead  of  their  own  interests,  preju- 
dices and  passions,  we  should  never  have  been  distract- 
ed with  so  many  systems  of  error  and  superstition. 

Do  not  read  much,  at  a  time.  Meditation  is  the 
stomach,  which  digests  this  food  ;  you  should  reflect 
many  hours,  for  reading  one.  And  there  is  such  a 
condensed  richness  in  the  scriptures, that  one  single  verse 
will  often  suggest  an  ample  fund  fcr  serious  contempla- 
tion. 

Every  moment,  that  you  peruse  this  book,  consider 
yourself  as  in  the  immediate  presence  of  your  Maker. 
Fancy  that  you  hear  him,  delivering  the  commandments, 
in  all  the  thunder  and  lightning  of  the  mount.  Re- 
member that,  though  heaven  and  earth  fail,  one  jot  or 
one  title  shall,  in  no  wise,  pass  from  the  law,  till  all  be 
fulfilled.  Consider  what  a  number  of  holy  men  have 
sealed  the  truth  of  this  testimony  with  their  blood.  Ex- 
amine yourself  by  the  promises  and  threatening*,  as 
you  go  along,  and  do  not  forget  to  bless  God  upon  your 
inees,  that  he  has  given  you  such  a  lamp  for  your  feet, 
and  such  a  light  to  your  paths. 

Without  this  sacred  volume,  the  world  would  have 
been,  at  this  ver\  moment,  considerably  unenlightened  j 
Worshipping  stocks   or  stones,   perhaps   offering  human 


LETTERS    TO    A    fOUNG    LADY.  ¥3 

blood,  and  tormenting  themselves  with  burdensome  cer- 
emonies, that  had  no  manner  of  connexion  with  the 
heart;  immersed  in  sorrows,  which  they  could  not  have 
cased,  and  perplexed  with  a  thousand,  gloomy  enigmas, 
which  they  never  could  have  solved.  The  light,  which 
superficial  sceptics  vaunt,  as  that  of  nature  or  philoso- 
phy, is,  in  a  great  degree,  derived  from  the  scriptures. 
The  arguments,  which  they  level  against  Christianity, 
have  been  suggested  by  the  light  cf  Christianity  itself. 


LETTER  X. 

THOUGH  I  have  reprobated  proiix comment 

>here  are,  however,  several  little  books,  which  will  illus- 
trate and  enliven  the  sacred  writings,  and  enable  you  to 
read  them  with  greater  pleasure  and  advantage.  J\U1- 
moth,  on  the  beautiful  and  sublime  of  scripture,  falls 
under  this  description.  He  will  suggest  some  striking 
passages,  which  before  may  have  escaped  your  observa- 
tion. 

The  Comtesse  le  Genlis  is  entitled  to  the  gratitude 
of  all  young  people.  She  is  possessed  of  an  elegant 
taste,  a  splendid  style,  and  a  very  enlightened  under- 
standing.  She  has  thrown  into  a  dramatic  form,  sev- 
eral of  the  historical  parts  of  the  Bible  ;  and  though  the 
chastity  of  an  English  taste  \\  not  easily  reconciled  to 
seriousness  "in  so  questionable  a  shape,"  her  ingenuity 
sparkles  through  the  whole  performance,  and  has  given 
it  a  pathos,  an  int,rest  and  brilia;icy,  that  will  bo:h  im- 
prove your  heart,  and  delight  your  imagination. 

I  scarcely  know  a  woman,  that  deserves  so  much 
from  the  community  at  large,  as  INJrs.  Trimmer.  Her 
Sacred  ITntory  is  a  well  known,  useful  performance  : 
her  unwearied  labors  for  the  service  of  the  poor,  in  her 
Family  Magazine,  and  her  active  patronage  of  Sunday 
Schools,  bebpeak  an  heart,  that  is  warm  with  benevo- 
lence, and  an  understanding  of  no  ordinary  size.  The 
pride  of  philosophy  and  profound  learning  may,  per- 
haps, look  down  on  such  attempts,  as  belie  a  :h  their  am* 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

bit  ion.  But  how  can  talents  be  so  usefully,  or  so  amia- 
e«np]  iyed,  as  when  stripped  of  their  gaudy  plum- 
coadescend  to  instruct,  to  bless  and  reform 
the  meanest  of  mankind.  Metaphysical  reasonings  are 
for  the  learned  few,  and  often  mislead  them  ;  these  prac- 
ticable labors  consult  the  good  of  millions,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  edify,  when  all  such  cobweb  systems  are  total- 
ly demqlished,  and  their  authors  consigned  to  the  ob- 
livion they  deserve. 

There  is  not  perhaps,  a  better  method  of  turning  serip- 
ture  to  advantage,  than  that  used  by  the  good  Bishop 
Wilson,  in  his  Sacra  Privata.  He  selects  a  few,  de- 
tached verses,  and, "in  his  natural  and  easy  style,  raises 
upon  each,  a  train  of  reflections,  which  must  enkindle 
and  animate  the  devotion  of  every  reader. 

Doddridge's  paraphrase  on  the  New  Testament  may 
be  justly  recommended  for  its  zeal,  piety,  earnestness 
of  animation.  Nor  does  it  want  the  embellishments 
of  a  lively  fancy,  or  of  an  easy  unadorned  language. 
But,  like  most  dissenters  of  his  time,  he  was  a  pupil  of 
the  Calvanistic  school  ;  and  though  I  shall  never  be  a 
convert  to  his  system,  I  cannot  but  approve  the  general 
air  and  spirit  of  his  writings.  There  are  few  things  or 
characters  in  life,  any  more  than  authors,  that  are  form- 
ed to  command  an  unreserved  admiration.  The  most 
delightful  landskips  have  their  shades.  The  most  ani* 
mated  countenance  has  frequently  some  feature  im- 
perfect or  distorted.  There  will  be  accidental  heats  and 
iiush.es  on  the  most  delicate  complexion. 


LETTER  XI. 

THERE  are  several  excellent  manuals  of  private 
devotion.  But  f  have  no  great  opinion  of  these  forms. 
Look  into  the  history  of  your  private  life  and  the  dis- 
pensations of  Providence  ;  to  what  is  daily  happening 
within  you,  and  about  you,  and  your,  own  heart  will  be 
the  best  prayer-book  in  the  world.  If  vou  attend  to  its 
wishes,  its  breathings  and  its  wants,  you  can  never  want 
languag  ;  or  if  you  should,  God  is  ever  present  anc 


LETTER 9  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY.  Z7 

accept  the  naked  wishes  of  your  soul.  A  beggar,  in 
great -distress,  is  always  eloquent.  His  sighs  and  tears 
speak  ;  he  feels  what  he  wants,  and  he  needs  no  artifi- 
cial arrangement  of  words.  Still  babes  must  be  nour- 
ished with  milk.  There  is  a  penod  in  the  christian^  us 
well  as  the  natural  life,  when  leading  strings  are  neces- 
sary 10  the  infant 

I  have  known  people  fall  inir-  a  total  Hifwe  of  private- 
devotion,  solely  from  a  fancied  poverty"  of  words.  '(  his 
is  a  very  dangerous  error.  Prayers,  drawn  from  books, 
are  surely  preferable  to  no  prayers  at  1:11.  Artificial ex- 
ercisers better  than  total  inaction,  But  prayer  of  the\ 
heart  is  that  superior  glow,  which  arises  ftom  motion  in 
the  open  air,  and  exhilarates  lis  with  a  view  of  all  the 
charming  pictures  and  productions  of  nature. 

As  a  public  system  of  devotion,  that  of  our  church 
is  excellent.  How  simple  and  energetic  is  the  language  ! 
How  rich  and  beautifully  varied,  are  the  collects  !  How 
universal  the  prayers,  extending  to  all  conditions  of  men, 
situations  of  life,  and  comprising  every  wish  and  sor- 
row of  the  heart.  If  other  forms  do  not  please  your 
taste,  you  may  contrive  to  adapt  some  portion  of  this  to 
your  private  occasions. 

Two  capital  traits  will  strike  ycu  in  your  liturgy  ;  the 
great  stress,  laid  upon  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  continual 
intercession  for. the  blessings  of  the  holy  spirit.  These 
are,  indeed,  the  grand  lesson  to  be  learned  from  it,  as 
well  as  from  the  scriptures.  They  are  the  pillars  of  the 
church  ;  the  life  and  blood  of  the  christian  system. 

Without  the  atonement  of  Christ,  criminals  as  we  are, 
there  never  could  have  been  any  hope  of  mercy  ;  with- 
out the  assistance  and  graces  of  the  spirit,  we  could  net 
have  been  purified  for  the  mansions  of  glory.  If  Christ 
has  been  called  the  sun  of  righteousness,  the  holy  spirit 
is  the  air,  which  purifies  and  invigorates  the  whole  mo- 
ral world,  and  preserves  it  from  stagnation  and  putre- 
faction. 

Meditate  frequently  on  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  till 
you  abhor  every  Yin.  that  produced  them  j  and  in  order 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

to  l)j  enriched  with  all  graces  and  blessings,  prav  daii\ 
and  fervently   for   his   holy  spirit.     The   good   Bishop 
Kenn  has  a  few   words,  in   one  of  his   hymns,   which 
wondci fully  epitomize  our  petitions  and  our  wants  : 
t 

Direct,  control,  suggest  this  day, 

All  I  design,  or  do,  or  sav, 

That  all  my  pow'rs,  with  all  their  might, 

In  thy  sole  glory  may  unite. 


LETTER  XII. 

MY  DEAR  LUCY, 

YOUR  sacred  reading  needs  not  to  be  wholly  con- 
fined  to  the  scriptures.  A  few  other  serious  books  will 
assist  your  piety,  as  well  as  serve  to  illustrate  and  con- 
firm the  scriptures  themselves. 

I  cannot,  in  this  respect,  so  much  recommend  modern 
sermons,  as  some  little  practical  treatises  of  piety.  Eng- 
lish discourses  in  general,  by  a  strange,  scholastic  mis- 
management, are  not  sufficiently  addressed  to  the  heart. 
Either  they  are  learned  disquisitions,  on  some  .specula- 
tive, controverted  subject,  more  calculated  to  display  a- 
bilities,  than  to  edify  ;  or  they  are  spruce,  moral  essays, 
with  little  more  of  Christianity  in  them,  than  might  be 
gleaned  from  the  works  of  Plato  or  Epictetus.  They 
want  that  simplicity,  fire,  energy,  animation,  that  bold- 
ness of  images,  appeal  to  the  conscience,  and  that  pic- 
turesque display  of  heaveniand  hell,  which  give  such  an 
unction  to  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  and  of  the  fathers. 
They  do  not  thunder  and  lighten  at  tlje  sinner  ;  they 
do  not  carry  us  by  a  whirlwind,  into  heaven,  and  shew 
us  thrones  and  scepters  ;  they  convince,  but  they  do 
not  animate  :  they  glitter  but  they  do  not  warm, 

Ancitnt  divines  have  more  fire  and  matter.  They 
studied  the  scriptures,  more  than  human  systems. — 
*  They  were  filled  with  the  spirit  j"  they  were  men  of 
watchfulness  and  prayers.  A  profane  spirit  of  criticism 
or  of  philosophy,  falsely  so  called,  makes  us  cold  and 


LETTERS   TO    A   YOUNG   LADY.  29 

languid.  In  pervading  many  learned  or  splendid  pages, 
the  heart  is  often  left  devoid  of  one,  pious  emotion. 

Many  sermons,  no  doubt  are  to  be  excepted  from  this 
censure.  Those  of  Archbishop  Seeker  contain  a  fund 
of  solid  matter,  piety  and  instruction  ;  but  the  style  is 
rather  singular  and  uncouth.  The  marble  is  rich,  but  it 
is  unpolished.  There  is  such  a  thing,  as  an  elegant  sim- 
plicity.    Seeker  had  a  simplicity  without  this  elegance. 

Few  prelatei ,  however,  have  deserved  so  will  from 
the  church,  or  posterity.  The  metropolitan,  though- 
placed  in  tlie  bosom  of  a  court,  had  neither  pride,  indo- 
lence, nor  adulation.  His  vigilance  was  extraordinary  ; 
his  labors  unremitting,  and  his  crosier  but  an  imperfect 
emblem  of  the  real  pastoral  zeal,  "  which  eat  up  his 
soul."  The  present  Bishop  of  London  has  ail  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  illustrious  patron,  tissued  with  that  ele- 
gance, which  the  archbishop  wanted.  His  sermons 
have  been  universally  read  ;  they  are  written  on  a  truly 
evangelical  plan  :  and  their  object  is  not  merely  to  a- 
muse,  bat  to  instruct  and  edify. 

LETTER  XIII. 

EVERY  person  should  read  the  discourses  of  Sher- 
lock, who  wishes  to  see  the  grand  dectzinss  of  Chris- 
tianity properly  illustrated,  and  enforced  with  equal  en- 
ergy of  argument  and  language  v  Sherlock  is  one  of  the 
few  original  writers  of  sermons.  He  is  the  Locke  of 
divinity,  who  anatomizes  the  whole  system,  and  displays 
its  component  parts. 

Many  authors  glean  all  their  matter  from  other  hook** 
He  borrowed  Aft  from  the  scriptures  and  reflection,  hli 
thought  many  hours,  for  writing  one.  If  all  -men  d  wi- 
the same,  the  press  would  not  groan  with  such  continu- 
al abortions. 

Ogden's  Sermons  have  vtry  great,  original   merit. 
Perhaps    I  miscalled  them  ;  they  are,    more  proper!/, 
sketches  on  sacred  subjects  ;  on  the  fundamental  a.- ti- 
cks of  the  christian  faith*     There  is  more  vigor, 
C   2. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY, 

energy  and  conviction  id  one  page  of  this  writer,  than  in 
whole  volumes  of  some  others,  who  have  received  a 
much  more  general  applause. 

The  doctor  seems  particularly  to  have  studied  con- 
ciseness, and  his  miniature  plan"  sometimes  leaves  the 
features  of  his  pieces  indistinct.  There  is  a  singular 
abruptness  in  his  transitions,  and  the  mind  is  frequent- 
ly obliged  to  pause,  in  order  to  discover  the  invisible 
connexion,  and  unite  the,  seemingly,  broken  chain  of 
ideas.  These  discourses  were,  probably,  in  their  trig, 
tnal  state,  much  more  diffuse.  He  retrenched  by  de- 
grees, and,  as  an  ingenious  French  writer  once  said, 
*-•  had  leisure  to  be  concise." 


LETTER  XIV. 

THERE  is  more  popular  eloquence,   argument  and 
pathos  in  Archbishop  1  illotson,  than  in  almost  any  an- 
cient writer  of  Sermons,  that  I  recollect.   But  his  works 
are  much  incumbered  with  the  scholastic  divinity  of  his 
age,  and  strangely  perplexed  with  divisions  and  subdi- 
visions.     Unity  of  design  is  the  beauty  ©f  all   writings. 
A  religious  discourse  should  tend  only  to  the  enforcing  ^ 
of  out  grand  point.     This   should,   always,   be   kept  in 
sight,  and  the  way  to  it  should  be  as  direct,  concise  and 
simple,  as  possible.      Divines  of  the   last  century  spent 
more  time  in  proving  what   was  self-evident,  and  illus- 
trating it  by  learned  quotations,  than  would  have  suffic- 
ed for  inculcating  some  lesson  of  piety,  that  would  nev- 
er have   been   forgotten.     Modern   writers   have  judi- 
isly  corrected  this  mistake.     They   come    more  /;;:- 
uta't/  to  the  poinr,  and  would  think  it  as  downright 
pedantry  tp  amuse  their  hearers,  with  a  long  list  of  wi it- 
ers, as  to  retail  little   scraps   of  Greek  or  Latin  in  con- 
versation. 

Atterbury  was  the  pulpit  Cicero  of  his  day,   and,  for 

the  beauty,  sweetness  and  harmony  of  his  style,  has  Stilt 

«m  admirer  in  ever}'  person  of  elegance  and  taste.      But 

■x  he  has  uivays  appeared  rather  graceful,  than  for* 


m  LETTERS  TO  A  YOtfNG   LADY  31 

cible,  and  more  splendid,  than  impassioned.  He  is  al- 
ways dressed  for  court  ;  and  studied  ornaments,  how- 
ever  rich,  cannot  but  have  an  uninteresting  uniformity. 
He  is  invariably  a  fine,  flowing,  pellucid  stream,  never 
that  impetuous  torrent,  which  overflows  its'  banks,  car- 
ries all  before  it,  and  gives  us  the  idea  of  sublimity  and 
grandeur.  Nature  would  have  tired,  if  she  had  pre- 
sented us  with  nothing  but  fine,  level  extended  lawns. 
She  has  wisely  intermixed  with  heaths,  barren  rock?, 
and  craggy  precipices  in  her  infinitely  beautiful  and  va- 
negated  landslips. 


LETTER  XV. 

THE  late,  unfortunate  Dr.  Dodd  owed,  I  should 
conceive,  his  great  popularity  to  the  advantage  of  his 
voice,  person,  manner,  gesture  and  address.  For  in- 
deed his  compositions  have  not  intrinsic  merit  enough 
to  have  challenged  any  extraordinary  applause. 

Weak,  flimsy,  superficial  in  his  arguments,  and  rather 
plausible,  than  energetic  in  his  language,  it  must  have 
been  only  the  popularity  of  his  subjects,  the  new  vein 
of  pathetic,  which  he  attempted,  and  his  fortunate  con- 
genial situation  at  the  Magdalen,  and  in  a  metropolis, 
which,  under  the  management  of  such  advantages,  pro- 
cured him  his  extensive,  temporary  reputation. 

But  alas  \  his  popularity  Was  very  dearly  purchased  ! 
it  was  built  on  the  ruins  of  his  innocence  and  virtue. — 
Happy,  if  he  had  lived  and  died  in  obscurity,  or  been 
an  humble  curate  in  some  sequestered  village,  where 
jessamines  had  elapsed  round  his  unenvied  mansion, 
with  uneFilightened  rustics  only  for  his  associatss  !  Ad- 
miration would  not  then  have  dazzled  his  eyes.  His 
vanity  could  not  have  sought  those  unequal  connexions, 
which  he  afterwards  found  himself  unable  to  support, 
nor  expensive  pleasures  led  him  to  an  action,  which 
wounded  religion  in  its  Very  vitals,  and  brought  so 
touch  disgrace  on  his  sacred  profession. 


Z2  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

He  might,  then,  like  many  other  excellent  men,  have 
c*  fallen  asleep,1'  amidst  the  tender  offices  of  bewailing 
friends  ;  and  grateful  villagers,  would  have  wetted  his 
monument  with  tears  of  heartfelt  gratitude  and  esteem. 
He  is  now  a  beacon,  rising  high  in  the  bosom  of  the  o- 
cean,  which  says  to  the  wary  mariner,  "  beware  of 
rocks  and  quicksands."  It  has  been  said,  that  Dodd, 
in  the  beginning  of  his  sacred  office,  was  remarkably 
picus.  What  is  the  conclusion  ?  Hear  it  from  com- 
passion. Bathed  in  t.ears,  she  lifts  up  her  voice,  and 
cries  aloud,  "  Let  him  who  thinketh  he  standeth,  take 
heed  lest  he  fall." 

Faringdon's  Sermons  have  very  singular  merit.  It 
is  but  seldom  that  so  much  vivacity  finds  its  way  into 
this  species  of  writing.  Thev  will  improve  your  heart  : 
they  will  please  your  taste,  and  inchant  your  imagina- 
tion. It  is  many  years  since  I  read  them  ;  but  the 
impression  they  made  upon  my  miry],  will  never  be 
erased. 

If  I  durst  invidiously,  amidst  their  many  excellen- 
cies, mention  a  defect,  it  is  that  they  are  not  sufficient- 
ly fail  of  scriptural  allusions.  It  is  amazing  what 
force  and  energy  the  judicious  introduction  of  scriptur- 
al passages,  authorities  and  images,  gives  to  discourses 
of  this  nature.  Th«  rest  may  be  the  ingenious  conjec- 
uresofthe  author.  These  strike  the  reader  with  all 
the  certainty  and  irresistible  evidence  of  mathematical 
demonstration. 

Though  genius  and  taste  may  be  permitted  to  embel- 
lish, the  sacred  writings  should  be  the  ground-work  of 
all  pulpit  productions.  They  should  check  our  flights 
into  the  regions  of  fancy,,  and  they  should  guide  us 
through  the  bewildering  mazes  of  metaphysics. 

Faringdon,  is  long  since  dead,  but  the  real  #  author 
of  these  Discourses  is  yet  alive.  I  have  long  had  the 
honor  of  knowing  him,  and  as  long  have  admired  his 
talents.     And  of  his  virtues  and  great  benevolence,  he 

*  Rev.  Mr.  0 «,  Rector  of  W a. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  33 

exhibited,  I  think,  no  ordinary  proof,  when,  to  serve 
the  family  of  a  deceased  brother  clergyman,  he  gave  his 
time,  his  labor,'  his  abilities,  and  (what  is  more,)  deni- 
ed himself  the  dazzling  prospect  of  reputation. 


m 


LETTER  XVI. 

YOUNG  people   are    in    raptures  with  (what  they 

use  to  call)  Sterne's  Sermons.  But  true  criticism  will 
not  give  them  so  dignified  a  name.  They  are  the  sa- 
cred stories  of  scripture,  embellished  with  his  original 
talent  at  the  descriptive  and  pathetic.  They  are  his 
sentimental  journey  to  Zion  ;  but  have  little  more  of 
true  divinity  in  them,  than  they  might  have  had,  if 
such  an  heavenly  personage,  as  Jesus  Christ,  had  never 
lived  in  the  wot  Id,  "nor  published  his  gospel. 

Sermons,  that  aim  only  to  amuse  or  entertain,  are  be* 
neath  the  pulpit.  The?  are  the  moral  beauism  of  di- 
vines ;  an  attempt  to  mix  all  the  colours  of  the  rain- 
bow, with  the  dark  solemnity  of  a  most  serious  garb. 
They  are  music*  playing  in  the  ears  of  a  man,  whoss 
house  is  on  fire,  and  can  on! v  beguile  the'  moment,  which 
should  be  spent  in  saving  all  the  valuables  of  his  furni- 
ture, nnd  escaping  for  his  life.  Discburses  of  this  na- 
ture should  alarm  the  conscience  ;  should  display  at 
once  our  misery  and  the  mode  of  cure  ;  should'  probe 
all  the  rankling  sores  of  the  heart,  and  pour  in  the  pre- 
cious oil  of  divine  consolation. 

Sterne  was  a  very  great,  eccentric,  original  genius, 
but  he  was  never  formed  for  a  clergyman.  He  had  a 
levity  of  mind,  that  ill  befitted  so  serious  a  character. 
What  painter,  in  fancying  an  altar-piece,  would  have 
grouped  a  beau  (Pesprit,  or  a  facetious  bon  vivant,  with 
our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  at  the  last  supper  ? 


letter  «xyn. 

THE   Christian  Pattern  will  abundantly  recommend 
itself  by  the  name.     The  translation  oi  it  by  Stanhope, 


34  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

is  too  diffuse.     Wesley  has,   more  faithfully  preserved 
the  spiiit  and  concise  energy  of  the  excellent  original. 

The  singular  merits  of  this  little  book  is  obvious  from 
its  translation   into   almost   all   languages.     Gang 
ascribes    it,   with    pride,    to   an    Italian    author.       But 
whatever  country  gave  it  birth,  it  is  filled  with  a  s^red 
unction,  and  "  the  .wisdom  which  cometh  fronvaflpc 
Read  a  chapter  of  it  every  dzy,   and    you   will   nev 
want  a  fund  of  christian  meditations. 

There  is  more  true  piety  and  information,  couched 
in  Reflections  on  the  seven  Days  of  the  Week,  by  Mrs. 
Talbot,  than  you  will  sometimes  meetwih  in  large  and 
splendid  volumes.  You  cannot  have  a  he'ter  train  of 
reflections  for  the  beginning  of  your  every  da  v.  This 
good  lady  lived  in  the  family  of  Archbishop  Seeker, 
and  seems  to  have  imbibed  that  sp'frit  of  piety,  which 
so  eminently  distinguished  this  illustrious  prelate. 
is  long  since  dead  ;  but  her  little  book  will  live  in  the 
hearts  of  the  pious,  when  time  has  tarnished  all  the  lus- 
tre of  more  sounding  names. 

I  have  alwavs  thought,  that  little  short  treatises  of 
this  kind  have  done  the  most  extensive  good.  We  can 
carry  them  about  us,  and  the  size  does  not  deter  us 
from  looking  -within*  People  will  not  read  forge  trea- 
tises of  religion,  and  writers,  in  this  respect,  should  ac- 
commodate themselves  to  the  weakness  of  mankind  — 
Tender  stomachs  cannot  digest  rich,  substantial  food, 
nor  much,  at  a  time.  - 

Addison's  Saturday's  papers  are  all  of  them  inimita- 
ble. They  contnin  a  rich  fund  of  knowdedge  and  en- 
tertainment, raise  the  imagination,  and  improve  the 
heart.  The  good  man  very  judiciously  appointed  them 
for  Saturdays.  They  are  the  best  preparatives  for  be- 
ing "  truly  in  the  spirit,  on  the  Lord's  day.1' 

Scott  is  not,  perhaps,  a  lively  or  entertaining  writer  ; 
but  his  Christian  Lite  is  a  most  excellent  and  rational 
system  of  divinity  I  Indeed  subjects  of  this  nature  do 
not  admit  of  so  much  colouring*  as  some  others.  Im- 
agination  may  better  lend  its  charms  to  painters,  poets, 


1 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  Gj 

orators,  than  to  systematic  divines.  I  think,  however, 
that,  even  on  sacred  topics,  genius  might  more  fre- 
quently, embellish,  than  it  docs.  Young  people  will 
have  language,  pathos  and  picturesque  images,  or  they 
will  not  read.  Some  little  condescension  is  due  to 
their  weakness.  Children  must  be  cheated  into  the 
taking  of  useful  medicines-.  The  pill  should  be  gilded, 
and  the  bitter  mixed  with  a  sweet. 


LF.TTER  XVIII. 

THE  immortal  Locke  analyzed  the  powers  of  the 
human  understanding.  Mason  on  Self  Knowledge  is 
the  anatomist  of  the  heart.  If  you.  would  see  yourself 
in  your  true  colours,  you  must  be  daily  conversant  with 
this  book.  You  should  take  it  to  your  pillow,  when  you 
go  to  sleep.  You  should  read  it  when  you  rise.  It  has 
however,  in  my  idea,  one  capital  defect.  It  is  too  much 
ramified  into  heads,  divisions  and  subdivisions.  The 
size  of  the  house  is  too  small  for  the  numerous  apart- 
ments. 

Though  I  am,  by  no  means,  partial  to  the  latter,  fan- 
ciful writings  of  Mr.  Law,  I  will  venture  to  recommend 
the  two  first  books  he  ever  produced,  his  serious  Call, 
and  Christian  perfection.  They  are  very  awakening, 
animated  treatises,  written  with  great  simplicity  of  style, 
strength  of  argument,  and  originality  of  manner.  His 
Miranda  is  a  very  amiable  character  ;  and,  though  her 
piety  has  something  of  the  monastic,  in  its  air,  there  are 
traits  in  the  portrait  that  deserve  your  emulation. 

One  cannot  recollect  the  beginning  of  this  good  man's 
life,  when  his  conceptions  were  so  clear,  and  his  man- 
ner so  impassioned,  without  shuddering  at  the  danger 
of  giving  wav  to  fanciful  theories,  or  visionary  writers. 
It  is  wonderful,  that  so  very  discriminating  a  g'-nius 
should  have  been,  afterwards,  shackled  with  the  spiritu- 
al chemistry,  and  the  unintelligible  rhapsodies  of  Bell- 
men. But  even  the  great  and  amiable  Fenelon  was 
liscipleof  a  visionary.    He  who  wrote  Telemachus, 


35  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

fell  into  reveries.  "We  have  this  treasure  in  earthen 
vessels,  and  it  will  be  tinged  with  our  particular  com- 
plexions." 

LETTER  XIX. 

YOUNG's  Night  Thoughts  have  considerable  merit, 
and  may  occasionally  be  read  with  advantage.  But 
they  are  much  discoloured  with  melancholy,  and  give 
Christianity,  which  is  naturally  cheerful,  too  dark  a  com- 
plexion. 

Born  with  no  slender  share  of  ambition,  Young  had  anx- 
iously and  unsuccessfully  courted  promotion,  i  ht  bub- 
ble always  burst,  as  he  attempted  to  grasp  i"  ;  the  igtiits 
fatuus  deluced  him,  as  it  has  done  thousands  besides. — - 
Disappointment  is  generally  followed  with  disgust,  and 
disgust  will  always  dictate  to  the  pen. 

With  all  that  sensibility,  which  is  the  inseparable  con- 
comitant of  genius,  the  author  of  the  Night  Thoughts 
had  likewise  the  misfortune  to  be  deprived  by  an  early 
death,  of  several  of  those  relatives  from  whose  tender 
offices  and  soothing  attentions,  he  might  naturally  have 
expected,  in  the  evening  of  a  gloomy  life,  to  have  re- 
ceived some  consolation.  Mis  poems,  therefore,  have 
much  the  strain  of  Elegy,  and  his  piety  is  breathed  in 
sighs.  But  his  Night  Thoughts  have  awakened  many 
into  seriousness,  anal  you  must  take  them  as  you  do  all 
(/.her,  human  things,  with  their  good  and  their  bad — 
The  brightest  pearl  is  surrounded  with  a  mud.  It  is 
business  of  taste  and  judgment  to  make  the  separa- 
tion. 

The  works  of  Wilson  (the  once  bishop  of  Sodor  and 
..)  are  a  treasure  cf  plain,   practical  devotion.      His 
Indian  instructed,  his  Parochialia,   his   Sacra    Prtv 
and  his  treatise  on  the  sacrament,  are  all  serious  anJ.  in- 
terest! 

This  <  late  has  not  displayed  much   genius  on 

learning.      Bat  his  writings  ate  useful,  in  proportion  to 

j  lainness,  and  will  eddy  thousands,  who  could  nev- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YuL  N  G    LADY.  37 

f r  hive  cornprehenled  the  depths  of  learning,    or  the 
Buhtilties  of  metaphysics* 

Thrown  into  an  i/;normt  and  superstitious  diocese, 
he  stooped  to  the  level  of  the  meanest  understanding. 
He  considered  himself  as  the  father  of  his  people,  any 
th^y  pii  1  him  a  filial  dury  and  respect-  The  inlander 
prill  visits  Lis  grave,  *nd  weeps  at  the  recollection  of  his 
.deceased  virtues.  Such  Bishops  will  live  in  the  mem- 
ory of  the  faithful,  when  splendor  i^  forgotten.  His  la- 
bours were  unremitting,  his  zrjal  primitive  ;  and  if  he 
gave  no  brilliance  to  the  i».i:i*e,  he  aculed  to  its  solid 
weight. 

LETTER  XX. 

ations  of  St.  Austin  are  admirable,  hut 
have  ciifTercd  not  a  little  from  the  translation.  Jt  is,  I 
still  repeat  ir,  in  these  old  books,  that  we  chiefly  find  the 
t-.,0  spirit  ()f  pjetr.  Has  it  evaporated,  like  some  m;o- 
eral  waters,  by  a  long  preservation  ?  Or  is  it  that  we 
would  be  men  of  philosophy  and  criticism,  rather  thin 
divines?  A  modern  theologian,  plays  about  the  head, 
but  scarcely  warms  the  heart ;  an  ancient  writer  car- 
ries ns,  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  into  heaven,  and  fills 
us  wi'h  all  the  raptiires  of  devotion., 

The  difference  wiTl  he  very  forcibly  illustrated  by  the 
different  construction  of  ancient  and  modern  churches. 
'Ihe  wide  magnificence,  the  luminous  darkness,  the 
mouldering  walls  and  long  drawn  aisle  of  gothic  struc- 
ture U6  with  a  pleasing  melancholy,  thoughtful- 
and  devotion;  whilst  the  glaring  light,  artificial  or- 
naments, primness  and  convenience  of  our  modern  syna- 
gogues fill  us  only  with  little,  worldly  ideas  of  elegance 
and  taste. 

Beveridge^s  private  thoughts   and  resolutions    richly 

rve  a  place  in  your  collection.      Thev   are  not   ani- 

1  or  elegant,  but  they  are  pious  and  useful.     He  is 

cne  of  those   hospital)1  e    friends?    that  gives  us  a  verv 

D 


33  t.;tti  rs  to  a  young  lady. 

comfortable  anil  rich  repast  without  ceremony  or  osten- 
ration, 

Ta\Ioris  the  Shakespeare  of  divinity.  The  fertility 
of  hia  invention,  the  force  of  his  arguments,  the  richness 
of  his  images  and  the  copiousness  of  his  style  are  not  to 
be  parallelled  in  the  works  of  ancient  or  modern  wii- 
tcrs.     His  holy  living  and  dying  is  a  chief '(Vauvre. 

I  do  not  remember  to  have  received  more  pleasure 
and  improvement  from  any  book,  that  I  have  read  for 
some  time  past,  than  from  the  two  first  volumes  of  Gan- 
ganehYs  Letters.  Besides  being-  surprised  to  see  such 
a  generous  mode  of  thinking  in  the  sovereign  pontic,  so 
much  vivacity  in  a  monk,  tempered  wiih  sogreata  share 
of  unaffected  piety,  T  was  quite  charmed  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  style,  the  beauty  of  his  metaphors,  and  that 
spirit  of  philanthropy,  which  pervades  the  whole,  and 
does,  all  along,  more  honor  to  his  heart,  than  his  easy 
periods,  to  his  understanding. 

There  is  something  in  the  climate  of  Italy  which 
".vonderfully  heats  and  sublimes  the  imagination.  It  is 
the  garden  of  Europe,  and  its  writers  breathe  thatagree- 
nble  perfume  with  which  it  is  scented.  Ganganelli's 
description  of  this  country  is  particularly  splendid. — 
His  statues  breathe.  His  torrents  absolutely  murmur 
on  the  ear.  His  cliffs  have  an  impending  horror  on  the 
fancy;  and  his  gardens  waft  upon  us  aromatic  smells. 
I  would  still  gladly  hope,  notwithstanding  all  that  has 
been  advanced  to  the  contrary  that  these  letters  really 
came  from  this  distinguished  person.  I  am  net  willing 
to  give  up  the  idea,  that  liberality  of  sentiment  has  ex- 
tended itself  even  to  the  papal  throne. 


LETTER  XXI. 

MY  DEAR  LUCY, 

YOU  would  observe  from  the  complexion  of  my  last' 

tter,  that  I  have  recommended  writers  of -very  differ- 

sects,  and  from  various  denominations  of  christians. 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG   LADY 

The  truth  is,  I  hive  considered  their  spirit  and  tenden- 
cy,  and  not  their  name  or  party.  I  do  not  waift  lo 
make  yon  a  methodist,  a  dissenter,  a  mystic,  a  papist, 
a  fanatic,  an  enthusiast,  or  arty  thing  bat  a  real  chris- 
tian. I  should  wi  =  h  to  divest  your  mind  of  every  spe- 
cies of  bigotry,  and  convince  you  that  real  piety  has  ex- 
isted under  every  communion. 

When  your  judgment  is  more  matured,  you  should 
examine  authors  of  all  different  persuasions,  as  the  Gre- 
cian artist  did  women,  when  he  wished  to  paint  his  Ve- 
nus of  Medici.  He  selected  from  every  one  he  saw, 
the  particular  limb  or  feature,  in  which  they  separately 
excelled.  From  one  he  borrowed  the  most  beautiful 
eye  ;  from  another,  an  hand  ;  from  a  third,  a  bosom, 
&c.  These,  by  a  wonderful  effort  of  genicn,  he  com- 
bined into  a  perfect  whole. 

All.syslems.  like  all  human  figures,  have  their  de- 
fects ;  but  they  have  likewise,  their  excellencies.  Col- 
lect these,  distinct  charms,  and  work  them  up  in  the 
crucible  of  your  heart,  till  they  produce  "  the  very  beau- 
ty of  holiness"  in  your  life  and  conversation. 
Above  all,  look  through  all  books  and  forms  and  ordin- 
ances, up  to  your  God.  Cherish,  by  every  method,  a 
spirit  of  devotion.  Set  the  L«-»rd  always  before  you. — 
Consider  him,  as  the  soul  of  the  world,  the  Alpha,  and 
Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end.  Think,  act,  live, 
as  in  his  presence,  and  do  every  thing  to  his  glory.  Be- 
gin, continue  and  end  every  day,  as  ia  his  sight,  and 
every  action,  as  under  his  direction.  Remember  that 
all  things  on  earth  are  but  a  shadow  ;  that  time  is  tumb- 
ling down  the  system  of  the  universe,  and  that  religion 
only  can  rise  upon  the  ruins,  by  the  labours  it  has  in- 
scribed to  Eternity  and  God. 

LETTER  XXII. 

MY    DEAR    GIRL, 

THOUGH  it  may  appear  to  be  dealing  with  you  in 
dry  abstracted  subjects  above  your  age,  yet  I  do  think 


40  LETT  IRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

it  necessary,  that  vou  should  understand  the  grounds, 
on  which  your  faith  is  built,  or  the  testimony  which 
-oiiErms  the  truih  of  Christianity,  and  of  the  scriptures. 
Vou  will  thus  be  preserved  iroin  an  uncomfortable  fluc- 
tuHiiun  of  opinions,  and  guarded  from  the  false  insin- 
uations of  those,  that  lit  in  wait  to  deceive. 

I  believe,  indeed,  we  very  falsely  estimate  the  period, 
at  which  the  talents  of  women  begin  to  open,  as  well  as 
the  degree  of  their  extent,  and  comprehension,  and  su- 
perciliously withhold  from  you,  that  solid  information, 
which  alone  in  either  sex,  can  be  the  true  foundation  of 
a  rational  a  steady    and    consistent    conduct. 

This  testimony  in  favor  of  revelation,  is  divided,  for 
the  sake  of  order,  into  two  kinds,  internal  and  external. 
The  internal  is  that,  which  arises  from  the  nature  and 
excellency  of  the  precepts  themselves,  and  from  the 
writer's  having  had  no  private  or  sinister  views  fo  an- 
swer, but  corfoldtirtg  only  ;he  general  good  and  e^jf 
lion  of  mankind. 

The  first  mark  of  authenticity  is  fixed  on  every  page 
of  the  scriptures.  The  laws  of  Christ  are  of  such  a  na- 
ture, as  no  man  would  have  frame*!,  who  wished  to  a- 
vail  himself  of  the  passions,  pu  indues  and  interests  of 
mankind;  for  the)  prescribe,  on  the  other  hand  an  uni- 
versal  humility,  mortification  and  self  denial;  exhibit 
in  the  strongest  colours,  the  emptiness  of  riches,  and  the 
vanity  of  ambition  ;  and  have  no  other  \ie\v,  but  to  ele- 
vate the  affections,  regenerate  the  heart,  and  put  all  men 
on  looking  beyond  the  transient  concerns  of  tkis  life,  to 
the  happiness  of  another.  What  else  could  happen  to 
the  original  promulgers  of  these  laws,  but  that3  which 
actually  did,  violence  and  persecution? 

Our  blessed  Lord  positively  declared  that   his    king- 
dom was  not  of  tiiis  world.     He  sought  none  of  its  dis- 
tinctions and  he  received   none,    unless,    by    a   strange 
perversion  of  ideas,  we  place  them  in  the  poverty  of  a 
-,  or  the  toi  A  his  cross.     13 is  apostles  were 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADT.  41 

inflamed  with  the  very  same,  disinterested  zeal.  They 
willingly  resigned  lucrative  employments  at  the  call  of 
their  master;  they'bheeriully abandoned  weeping  friends 
— undertook  the  most  hazardous  voyages  and  travels — 
had  no  rest  day  or  ni>;ht,  were  carried  before  kings  and 
governors  of  the  earth,  u  and  even  hated  by  all  men  for 
h's  name's  sake." 

Read  the  account  of  their  labours,  persecution,  ban- 
ishment, death;  peruse  the  history  of  all  the  martyrs, 
written  with  their  blood,  and  tell  me,  whether  their 
zeal  must  not  have  come  from  heaven,  or  what  could 
ever  have  inspired  it,  but  a  sincere  conviction  of  duty, 
4-  a  faith,  which  looked  to  a  city  with  foundations,  whose 
builder  and  maker  was  God." 


LETTER  XXIII. 

THINK,  my  dear  girl,  for  yourself.  Are  there  a- 
ny  marks  of  secular  wisdom  or  policy  or  imposture,  in 
the  conduct  of  the  primitive  aposiles  and  christians  ? 
Examine  the  history  of  the  whole  world,  as  it  relates 
to  religion,  and  where  else  will  you  discover  any  por- 
tion of  the  same,  disinterested  spirit,  which  actuated 
these  original  publishers  of  the  gospel  I 

The  Roman  emperor  instituted  a  sacred  code  to  work 
upon  the  consciences,  and  to  keep  the  minds  of  a  sav- 
age and  a  barbarous  people  in  subjection  to  govern- 
ment. Zoroaster,  Lycurgus,  Solon,  all  celebrated  in 
their  day,  and  certainly  men  of  extraordinary  talents, 
had  more  a  view  to  policy,  than  any  moral  interests,  in 
their  respective  systems  of  legislation.  Mahomet  a- 
vailcd  himself  of  the  narrow,  sensual  views,  and  pas- 
sions of  his  followers,  and  of  the  particular  complexion 
and  dissentions  of  his  times,  merely  to  be  the  sole,  ex- 
clusive monarch  of  an  extensive  empire,  and  procure  a 
little,  fading  honor  and  distinction. 

u  The  kingdom  of  all  these  men  was  certainly  of  this 
world,"  and  their  laws,  in  many  instances,  were  repair. 
D  2 


LETTtRS    TO    A    JTOUNG    L*DY. 

it  to  right  reason,  and  the  best  and  dearest  interest 
of  their  fellow  creatures.     Oi  his  very  enemies 

said,  u  never  man  spake  like  this  man  r"  his  injunc- 
tions had  but  one  aspect — to  universal  happiness  and 
one,  simple  method  to  ;t — universal  reformation,  The 
angels  that  announced  him,  at  his  first  anptarance,  pro- 
claimed, ••  peace  on  earth,  and  gcoJ-v\  ill  towards 
men." 

Nor  is  the  wonderful  progress  of  this  religion,  in  so 
short  a  space  of  time,  over  all  Asia,  and  a  great  part  of 
Europe,  indeed  over  almost  the  whole  of  the,  then, 
known  world,  the  least  convincing  proof  of  its  divine 
original.  Consider  the  missionaries—  illiterate  fishermen 
and  mechanics,  and  you  must  conclude,  either  that  they 
were  endowed  with  supernatural  gifts  and  assistance, 
or  that  their  wonderful  success  was  even  a  greater  /;:;';- 
atlc,  than  the  endowment,  you  dispute. 

On  this  subject,  permit  me  to  recommend  to  your 
serious  perusal,  Soame  Jenyns's  Internal  Evidence  of 
the  Christian  Religion.  He  is,  on  the  whole,  a  fanci- 
ful writer  ;  but  this  is  an  excellent,  little  book,  that  has 
done  much  good,  and  comes  with  greater  force,  to  eve- 
ry bosom,  as  he  was  once,  according  to  his  own  candid 
confession,  in  the  number  of  those,  who  disputed  the 
sacred  truths  of  revelation.  You  will  receive  great 
pleasure  and  improvement,  likewise  from  Addison's 
Evidences  of  Christianity,  arranged  and  collected  into 
one  volume,  and  from  a  late,  similar  production  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  $catiitf« 

Every  word  of  the  scriptures,  indeed,  must  convince 
any  candid  or  thoughtful  person,  that  they  come  from 
God.  The  passions,  pride,  vices  and  interests  of  man- 
kind have  induced  not  a  few  to  set  up  for  sceptics. 
a  Much  learning  has  male  them  mad,"  or  a  little  has 
rendered  them  frivolous  and  conceited.  They  have 
sought  only  to  distinguish  themselves  by  uncommon 
opinions  \  they  hftve  been  dupes  to  their  own  fancied 


LF.TTEKS    I'O    A   YOUNG   LALV.  43 

penetration  ;  they  have  attempted  to  grasp  the  immtn- 
sity  of  the  Deity  j  in  arms  ofj&a/j,  or  iia\c  shrank  into 
scepticism,  as  a  refuse  from  their  vices. 

Hear  what  the  scripture  saith,  wt  Every  onf,  that  d<  - 
eth  evil,  haleth  the  light,  neither  eometh  to  the  light, 
lesj  his  deeds  should  be  reproved.  Except  ye  be- 
come as  little  children,  (humble,  docile,  tractable,)  ye 
cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Iiow  can 
ye  believe,  which  receive  honor  one  of  another,  and 
stek  not  the  honor,  which  cometh  of  God  only  j" 


LETTER  XXIV. 

THE  external  testimony,  in  favor  oi  the  christian 
religion,  arises  from  propht cy,  miracle?,  and  the  cor- 
responding evidence  of  history.  An  I  these  seem  to 
include  all  the  probable  methods,  which  heaven  could 
employ  for  the  conversion  of  mankind. 

The  whole  sacred  book  of  die  Old  Testament  i«, 
from  beginning  to  end,  a  clear  prediction  of  the  Messi- 
ah. One  of  the  prophets  has  foretold  the  precise  year, 
in  which  this  "  righteous  branch"  should  make  his  ap- 
pearance. And  this  event,  you  know,  has  taken  place, 
to  the  comfort  of  the  christian  world. 

Others  have  predicted  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, 
Babylon,  Tyre,  the  dispersion  and  calamities  of  thc^ 
Jews,  &c.  long  before  they  happened  ;  and  all  profane 
history,  which  has  been  written  since  their  time,  will 
inform  you,  that  these  awful  judgments  were  wonder- 
fully accomplished,  in  their  proper  season. 

The  Revelation  contains  darker  hints  of  some  events, 
that  are  visibly  though  gradually  fulfilling,  at  this  m<  - 
men!.  But  as  I  can  only  glance  at  the  subject,  you 
will  see  it  treated  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  confirm  your 
faith  and  exalt  your  devotion,  in  the  late  Bishop  of 
Bristol  (Dr.  Newton's,)  discourses  on  the  Prophecies. 
The  miracles  of  our  Savior  and  of  his  immediate  a- 
postles  meet  you  in  every  page  df  the  inspired  book  ; 
and  in  profane  history,  you  will  learn  from  those,   who 


4  I  i  £R8    TO    A     I  M)Y. 

Mere  .  '.  .  xemits  to  the  cause,  that  at  a  particular 

period  oi"  iirire<  there  dl  /exist  such  a  sacred  personage, 
as  Jesus  Chri&t,  \\!r»  Wrought  miracles,  healed  the  sick, 
md  raised  the  dead  :  s,lch  a  SlCt>  as  fhat  of  Christians, 
who  met  to  receive  sacrament,  who  bound  themselves 
■:  oath,  to  commit  no  iniquity,  practised  a  \v«n- 
.  innocence  and  austerity  of  manners,  and,  be)  ond 
ail  example,  loved  one  another.  You  will  see  likewise, 
in  the  same  pages,  a  lull  description  of  their  manners, 
morals,  ceremonies  and  religious  institutions. 

The  lapse  of  time,  moreover,  to  us,  who  live  in  these 
idler  limes,  has  gives  an  additional  force  to  the  evidenc- 
es in  favor  of  revelation.  The  ingenious  author  of  the 
Spectator,  m  hia  day,  considered  the  particular  case  of 
the  Jews,  their  calamities,  dispersion,  vagabond,  unset- 
tled state,  &c.  as  a  standing  incontestable  miracle y  iu 
support  of  the  sacred  writers.  They  still  continue 
(what  is  there  so  circumstantially  foretold,)  unable  to 
incorporate  with  any  people,  and  loaded  with  the  hatred 
and  abhorrence  of  all.  The  testimony,  therefore  from 
their  history  is  proportionally  more  illustrated  and 
confirmed. 

'i  he  destruction  of  the  Romish  clurch,  likewise,  is 
palpably  predicted  in  the  scriptures  :  And,  if  we  may 
judge  from  strong  appearances,  is  daily  approaching. 
The  great  and  general  diffusion  of  knowledge  ;  the  con- 
sequent progress  of  religious  toleration,  and  that  dis- 
persion of  the  mists  of  prejudice  from  all  eyes,  produc- 
ed by  the  genial  rays  of  a  meridian  sun,  must,  in  time, 
effect  the  downfall  of  all  tvranny  and  superstition  ;  whilst 
the  emperor,  employed  in  destroying  monasteries,  and 
encouraging  population,  appears  an  instrument  in  the 
hand  oi  Providence,  for  accelerating  the  approach  of 
this  auspicious  moment.  The  late  dismemberment, 
moreover,  of  territory  from  the  Holy  See  ;  the  conten- 
tion, in  which  the  sovereign  pontiff  has  been  involved 
by  those  monarchs,  who  ence  trembled  at  his  frown  ; 
and  the  mere  external  deference  only,  which  is  paid  to 
his  authority,  prove  that  his  throne  is  tottering  from  its 


L F.T  r  E  R3  TO  A   YOUNG    L  A L  S  .  45 

base,  and,  like  all  other  ham. in  things,  Approaching  to 
its  dissolution.  Thus  is  oar  holy  religion  founded  on 
a  rock,  against  which  the  winds  and  waves  of  infidelity 
beat  in  vain.  Proud  men  may  reason,  an*1  wicked  men 
pretend  to  doubt,  but  M  the  very  gates  of  hell  shall  not 
prevail  against  it.'' 

LETTER  XXV. 

MY    DEAR     LUCY, 

WONDER  not  at  the  diversity  of  opinions  in  reli- 
gion. It  has  been  from  the  beginnings  and  will  continue 
to  be  the  case,  to  the  tnd,  of  the  world.  Men  will  never 
have  the  same  religious  sentiments,  till  you  can  give 
them  the  very  same  natural  dispositions  of  humility, 
candor,  teachableness  ;  the  same  capacity,  education, 
acquaintance,  or  even  the  same  set  of  features  or  the 
same  complexion. 

The  history  of  the  church,  from  the  fust  moment,  to 
the  present,  is  an  history  of  these  diisentions.  So  soon 
as  Christ  and  his  apostles  disappeared,  men  mixed 
u  tares  of  human  opinion  with  this  good  seed  of  the 
word."  Even  two  of  these  apostles  had  a  sharp  con- 
tendon,  and  the  spirit  has  never  vanished  from  their 
successors. 

There  has  been  the  same  fashion  in  religious  opin- 
ions, as  in  common  things.  Particular  notions  have 
been  abetted,  laid  aside,  resumed  and  dismissed  again, 
under  different  names  and  leaders,  exactly  like  the  va- 
rying modes  of  dress,  furniture  or  entertainments. 

Nor  is  this  the  least  impeachment  of  our  holy  reli- 
gion. The  truth  of  that,  like  the  God,  whence  it 
comes,  is  the  "  same  yesterday,  to  day,  and  foreve-.  ' 
It  is  reserved,  as  the  privilege  of  a  more  glorious  era, 
that  all  mm  shall  be  of'1  one  heart  and  of  one  soul,  and 
keep  the  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace. '* 

In  all  Iiuman  systems  of  faith,  there  must  be  error. 
Where  error  is  invohmtdnj,  and  springs  from  no  crimin- 
al pasbion^,  but  only  from  a  weakness  or  misdircctwn  of 


;  TLKS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY. 

judgment,  the  Almightv,  who  Ibolceth  chiefly  at  life 
heart,  doubtless,  will  forgive.  Charity,  in  the  mean 
time,  is  the  great  bond  of  union,  amongst  all  parties. 
44  They  shall  come  from  the  east,  and  from  the  west, 
and  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of  God."  If  we  hope  to 
be  companions  in  glory,  u  we  should  not  surely  fall  out 
by  the  way." 

The  christian  blood,  which  has  stained  so  manv  ages 
of  the  church,  has  flowed  from  the  most  malignant  and 
selfish  passions.  The  gospel  breathes  nothing  but  uni- 
versal love,  and  candor  and  forbearance.  u  Ye  know 
not  what  manner  of  spirit  ye  are  of,"  is  the  mild  rebuke 
to  every  persecutor,  that  would  slay  with  the  sword. 


LETTER  XXVI. 

THOUGH  it  is  really  invidious,  yet  for  the  sake  of 
directing  your  judgment,  and  gratifying  a  very  natura,! 
and  laudable  curiosity,  I  will  give  you  a  brier,  compre- 
hensive sketch  of  the  opinions  of  the  more  celebrated 
religious  sects,  that  have  prevailed  in  this  kingdom. 
You  will  thus  be  able  to  form  some  comparative  idea 
of  their  merits  or  defects  ;  you  will  not  be  so  likely  to 
be  "  tossed  about  with  every  blase  of  vain  doctrine," 
and  you  will  never  feel  yourself  at  a  loss,  in  company, 
when  they  become  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Pagans  are  those  who  are  wholly  unenlightened  with 
revelation,  and  worship  idols,  instead  of  the  true  God. 
These  idols,  have  been  various,  as  the  caprices,  or  im- 
aginations of  the  people,  amongst  whom  they  are  found  ; 
sometimes  fictitious  beings,  such  as  Jupiter,  Apollo, 
Mercury,  Mars,  Juno,  Venus,  Minerva,  he.  some- 
times, good  qualities  personified  ;  Faith,  Hope,  Victo- 
ry, Concord  ;  sometimes  animals,  as  Serpents,  Croco- 
diles, &c.  or  ewn  vegetables  ;  as  Leek,  Onion.  Garlic. 
These  last  were  objects  of  adoration  amongst  the  Egyp- 
tians. 

Before  the  appearance  of  Christ,  almost  the  whole 
world  was  covered  with  paganism.     All  the  learning 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  17 

and  politeness  of  Athens  and  Rome  could  not  dispel 
this  ignorance.  It  h:is  only  vanished  "  where  the  sun 
of  righteousness  has  appeared  with  healing  in  his 
wing=?." 

An  ingenious  writer  has  said,  that  if  we  divide  the 
known  countries  of  the  globe  into  thirty  equal  parts,  five 
will  be  Christians  ;  six,  Mahometans,  and  nineteen, 
Pagans.  How  dreadful  the  reflection,  that  the  greatest 
of  all  possible  blessings  should  have  penetrated  but  so 
small  a  way  !  When  we  consider  the  privileges  of  ihe 
gospel,  how  gladly  would  one  carry  it,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, into  every  country  of  the  known  world  !  How  ar- 
dently should  we  pray  to  our  father  in  heaven,  that  his 
kingdom  of  grace  may  daily  come  on  earth,  and  how 
thankful  should  we  be  to  that  gracious  Providence,  that 
has  fixed  our  lot  in  a  christian  land,  and  under  the  en- 
livening beams  of  revelation  ! 

LETTER  XXVN. 

MY    DEAR    GIRL, 

MAHOMETANS  are  so  called  from  being  follow- 
ers of  the  great  impostor,  Mahomet.  This  extraordi- 
nary man  was  born  at  Mecca,  in  Arabia,  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  sixth  century  ;  and,  in  his  fortieth  year,  af- 
ter some  time  previously  spent  in  the  silence,  retire- 
ment and  austerity  of  a  cave,  presumed  to  style  himself, 
the  Apostle  of  God ;  pretended  to  have  received  from 
heaven,  a  new  and  a  last  revelation,  which  was  to  illus- 
trate and  inforce,  what  had  been  mistaken  or  perverted, 
in  the  christian,  by  the  lapse  of  time  or  the  sophistry  ot 
men.  He  affected,  likewise,  a  commission  from  above, 
Mgcntler  methods  should  prove  ineffectual,  to  propagate 
his  particular  religion  by  the  sword. 

His  tenets  are  contained  in  the  Koran,  which,  for  its 
singularity,  is  worth  your  reading.  To  give  them  plau- 
sibility, they  are  interspersed  with  some  christian  doc- 
trines, but,  at  the  same  time,  carry  a  most  artfel  address 
to  the  passions  :  allowing  polygamy,  rnd  describing  the 


48  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LA  TV. 

future    paradise,    ns  consisting  principally^   of  9e>ii 
pleasures;  splendid,  silken  garments  ;  rivers   of  water, 
wine,  milk,  honey  ;  music,  feasting,  and  most  beautiful 
women. 

Mahomet  was  a  man  of  great  talents   and  ambition. 
He  had  no  view,  but  to   render  himself   the   sol- 
formidable  monarch  of  an  extensive  empire.     Reii 
was  made  the  instrument  for  executing  his   wicked  and 
tyrannical  designs.     Hence  all  hisausteriies,  disgui 
deceptions.     Hence  he  pretended  such  a  familiar  inter- 
course with  heaven,  and,  bv  his  singular  address,  found* 
ed  a  religion,  which  has  continued   siic?  his  time,  with 
little  variation^  to  overspread  a  considerable  part  of  the 
world.     It  is  professed  by  the  Turks  and  Persians,  »,. 
several  nations  amongst  the  Africans,  and   by   many  a- 
morigst  the  East  Indians. 

The  outline  of  it  was  sketched  by  the  hands  of  a  great 
master.  It  was  suited  to  the  climate  ;  it  took  advan- 
tage of  the  disorders  and  dissentions,  then  prevailing  a- 
mongst  Christians,  and  it  promised  a  species  of  gratifi- 
cation, to  which  our  nature  will  always  feel  the  strong- 
est propensity. 

The  bulk  o(  people,  in  any  country,  do  not,  indeed 
cannot,  think  or  judge  for  themselves  ;  it  will  there- 
fore, always  be  in  the  power  of  thos*,  who  have  any 
ufar  talents,  to  make  the  multitude,  their  proselytes 
and  slaves  ;  and  thus.,  if  we  turn  over  the  history  of  I 
world,  shall  we  find  the  ambition,  lust,  and  avarice  of  a 
tratnphing  ori  the  dearest  interests  uftfl 

LETTER  xxvm. 

7-;  F  A  R     LUCY, 

1 .  ■  N  D  E  R  t  h  e  n  am  e  of  C  h  r i  s t  i  a  n  s .  h  o  w  c  v  e  r  d  i  flPe  ring 
from  each  other  in  private  opinions',  or  divided  and  Sub- 
divided amongst  themselves,  at  included  all  those,  who 

embrace  the  sacred  revelation  and  doctrine  of  */>??/? 
Chriit.  Amongst  these,  She  Roman  Catholics,  both  in 
point  of  numbers,  and  the  figure  they  have  made  in  the 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  43 

history  of  Europe,  may   seem  to  claim  some  degree  of 
precedence.* 

This  religion,  which  has  subsisted  for  such  a  length 
of  time,  and  covered  so  considerable  a  part  of  the  woi  Id, 
is  little  else  but  a  system  of  political  tyranny  establish- 
ed by  the  clergy,  over  the  consciences  and  fortunes'  of 
men,  merely  to  enrich  and  aggrandize  themselves.  The)*, 
who  should  have  aspired  to  no  other  greatness,  but  to 
become  the  servants  of  all  for  their  eternal  good,  have 
undertaken  "  to  lord  it  over  God  s  heritage,  and  rule 
it  with  a  rod  of  iron." 

Can  any  thing  in  the  world  be  more  inconsistent  ? 
The  Pope  in  all  the  plenitude  of  temporal  power  pre- 
sumptuously styles  himself  the  vicar  general  of  Jems 
Ovist  !  that  Jesus,  who  appeared  in  a  manger,  emptied 
himself  of  all  his  glory,  and  disclaimed  all  temporal 
greatness  and  distinction  ! 

The  public  worship  cf  the  papists  is  overloaden  with 
ceremony.  It  is  performed  in  a  learned  language,  un- 
known to  the  vulgar,  and  intermixed  with  such  a  con- 
tinual change  of  dress,  attitude  and  ceremonies,  as  arc 
only  calculated  to  excite  the  ridicule  of  a  rational  and 
enlightened  mind.  The  great,  Supreme  incomprehen- 
sible Spirit  is  only  to  be  served  with  the  heart  and  af- 
fections, and  the  most  unlearned  person  in  a  congrega- 
tion should  surely  understand  every  prayer  that  is  ut- 
tered. 

The  Roman  Catholics  acknowledge  the  Pope  for  their 
head..  They  think  the  church  infallible  in  irs  counsels 
and  decisions,  arid  brand  all,  who  differ  fiom  them, 
with  the  odious  name  of  heretics,  as  people  who  are  not 
within  the  pale  of  salvation.  They  keep  the  minds  of 
poor  people  in  ignorance ;  they  do  not  permit  them  to 
read  the  scriptures,  but  refer  ihem»for  instruction  solely 

*  The  Roman  Catholic  religion  is  at  this  day  the  es- 
tablished religion  of  the  following  Countries,  viz.  Por- 
tugal, Spain,  France,  Italy,  Bohemia,  Hungary,  Poland, 
and  likewise  part  of  Germany  and  Swisserland. 
E 


5*  ITERS  TO  A  TOtfWC  LADT. 

to  their  priests  ;  they  maintain  the  necessity  of  confess- 
ing their  sins  and  frailties  to  their  pastor,  and  the  val- 
idity of  human  absolution  ;  they  believe  the  absurd  and 
incomprehensible  doctrine  of  transiAstantiatioriy  or  that 
the  element  of  bread  and  wine,  in  the  sacrament,  are 
changed  into  the  real  body  and  blood  of  Christ  ;  they 
have  been  accused  of  worshipping  images;  saints,  they 
certainly  invoke,  to  be  mediators  for  them  ;  they  have 
swelled  the  number  of  sacraments  to  seven ;  these  are 
baptism,  confirmation,  the  eucharist,  penance,  extreme 
unction,  holy  orders,  and  marriage  ;  they  admit  the 
doctrine  of  a  purgatory  after  death,  in  which  souls  are 
refined  from  their  former  pollutions  ;  they  forbid  their 
priests  to  marry \  preach  up  the  necessity,  or  superior 
sanctity  of  a  single  life,  and  induce  as  many  people  of 
fortune,  as  possible,  to  bury  themselves  in  convents  and 
monasteries,  and  pour  their  fortunes  into  the  bosom  of 
the  church  ;  in  some  of  the  more  corrupt  ages,  indul- 
p;rtices  for  the  greatest  crimes  might  be  purchased  with 
.'V  •  and  every  degree  of  guilt  has  had  its  stated 
sum  of  acquittance  ;  persecution  for  conscience  sake, 
has  been  deemed  meritorious,  and  their  annals  are  stain- 
ed with  the  blood  of  thousands. 

There  are,  doubtless,  multitudes  of  papists,  who,  in 
an  enlightened  age,  shudder  at  many  of  these  dreadful 
opinions,  and  laugh  at  others  ;  the  gay  and  volatile  peo- 
ple of  France,  in  general  ridicule  them  all  ;  and  make 
a  natural  transition  from  the  extreme  of  superstition, 
to  that  of  unbelief.  Whether  these  be,  or  be  not.,  the 
principles  of the  present  members,   they  are,   indisputa- 

*  The  selling  of  these  indulgences  by  John  Tetzel,  a 
Dominican  friar,  roused  the  spirit  of  Dr.  Martin  Lu- 
ther, Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  University  of  Wit- 
tenburg,  in  the  Electorate  ot  Saxon)'.  He  caused  95 
theses,  opposing  this  abuse  and  other  errors,  to  be  print- 
ed and  nailed  to  the  door  of  the  Electoral  Church,  Oc- 
tober 31,  l51T  ;  and  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  Re- 
formation. 


LITTERS   10  A  YOUNG  LADY.  I 

l.ly,  the  established  doctrines  of  the'  dburck,  howevct 
varnished  over  by  art,  or  evaded  by  affectation  ;  and 
though  this  people  at  present,  are  loyal,  inoffensive  sub- 
jects, and  seemingly  attached  to  the  sovereign  on  the 
throne,  yet  there  is  reason  to  fear,  that  a  renewal  ot 
their  power  would  be  attended  with" a  repetition  of  their 
violence,  and  blow-up  the  seemingly  extinguished  em- 
bers of  hatred  and  persecution.  Such  a  many-headed 
monster  should  be  carefully  g  tarded.  Deluges  of  Am- 
man  blood  are  not  to  be  forgotten. 

For  their  sake,  and  for  the  honor  of  Christianity,  I 
do  most  ardently  wish  their  conversion.  I  long  to  em- 
brace, as  brethren,  a  thousand,  excellent  men,  who  noxv 
live,  as  1  cherish  the  memories  of  many,  who  have  diedy 
within  the  communion.  Nor  do  1  think  the  period  is 
very  distant*  Bigotry  cannot  much  longer  be  a  weed 
in  the  highly  cultivated  state  of  Great  Britain.  I  have 
before  mentioned  the  emperor,  as  a  probable  instrument 
of  this  good  work.  His  ambition,  I  trust,  will  thus  be 
consecrated  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  welfare  of 
mankind.  The  happiest  events  we  celebrate,  have, . 
sometimes,  sprung  from  the  impurest  passions.  Our 
own  reformation  from  this  church  was  singularly  effect- 
ed.* The  Almighty  can  bend  the  counsels  of  men,  in 
such  a  manner,  as  to  answer  his  sovereign  designs. 
"  He  doeth  what  he  will,  in  the  armies  of  heaven,  and 
amongst  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth." 


LETTER  XXIX. 

THE  Greek  church  is  much  less  known  amongst  us, 
as  to  its  doctrine  or  discipline,  than  the  Roman.  In- 
deed there  are,  comparatively,  but  few  members  of  it 
in  England.  It  was  first  established  in  Greece,  from 
whence  it  derived  its  name,  and  extends  to  some  other 
parts  of  Turkey.')'     It  is  often  called  the  eastern^  in  con- 

*In  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  '\h  is  likewise  the  es» 
tablished  church  througnout  the  vast  empire  of  Russia 
in  Europe* 


5S  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

tradistinctkm  to  the  Romish,    which  is  the    western 
church. 

Though  the  professors  of  this  religion  disavow  the 
supremacy  of  the  Pope,  and  many  other  opinions  of  the 
Holy  See,  yet  they  are  considerably  tinctured  with  su- 
perstition. Their  worship  is  overloaden  with  ceremo- 
ny, shew,  I  blend  id  dresses,  fastings,  austerities,  &c.  as 
well  as  the  former.  They  are  governed  by  bishops 
and  patriarchs.  Their  head  is  the  patriarch  of  Con- 
stantinople. 


LETTER  XXX. 

MY  DEAR  LUCY, 

DISSENTER  is  a  vague  word,  which,  in  its  full 
latitude,  may  be  applied  to  all,  who  differ  from  the  es- 
tablished religion.  Originally,  however,  it  meant  only 
one  kind  of  people,  then  distinguished  by  the  name  of 
prclbyterians,  who  rather  dissented  from  the  discipline 
and  polity,  than  the  opinions,  of  the  church.  These,  in 
general,  embraced  the  sentiments  of  Calvin,  relating  to 
foreknowledge,  divine  decrees,  irresistible  grace,  pre- 
destination, reprobation,  Sec.  They  disclaimed  episco- 
pacy, and  their  government  was  vested  in  presbyters 
and  synods.  The  word  presbyter,  means  an  cider,  and 
synod,  an  ecclesiastical  council  or  assembly. 

The  [resent  race  of  dissenters  may  be  strictly  subdi- 
vided into  two  classes  ;  those  who  still  retain  the  doc- 
trines of  Calvin,  and  his  mode  of  discipline,  and  call 
themselves  from  their  form  of  government,  Independ- 
ents ;  and  such,  as  assume  the  more  specious  title  of 
protesXant  dissenters.  The  first  are  extremely  rigid 
and  puritanical  in  their  outward  deportment  ;  but  they 
do  not  breathe  all  the  sweetness  of  piety,  nor  are  their 
annals  unstained  with  instances  of  intolerance  and  per- 
secution. Their  leader  was  a  fuiious  and  unrelenting 
bigot.  His  murder  of  the  poor  honest  Servetus  will  be 
an  eternal  stigma  on  his  memory,  and  throw  a  dark 
shade  over  his  pretended  virtues. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  5Z 

lacked  how  can  people,  with  such  sentiments,  act 
otherwise  ?  If  their  God  be  only  merciful  to  a  few,  e- 
lect,  how  should  thiu  think  pf  i-genvral  benevolence  ? 
If -he  can  be.  cruel  to  so  many  millions  o(  creattires, 
where  is  the  harm  of  imitating  his  example,  or  exter- 
minating thousands  P 

I  do  not  know  that  the  latter  kind  of  dissenter?  have 
any  settled  code iof  'faith,  "  Every  minister  has  a  psalm 
of  his  own,  has  a  doctrine,  has  an  interpretation,"  so 
that  very  opposite  sentiments,  may  be  consistently  deliv- 
ered by  different  persons,  in  the  same  pulpit.  They 
\alue  themselves  highly,  with  what  justice,  on  their 
learning,  candor,  and  liberality.  Far  from  being  actu- 
ated with  any  blind  or  enthusiastic  zeal,  they  seem  to 
worship  reason,  as  their  guide,  and  sacrilegiously  exalt 
it,  almost  on  the  ruins  of  revelation.  Their  danger  is 
of  falling  into  sceptism,  the  most  alarming  and  incurable 
of  all  spiritual  disorders.  They  are  said,  in  general,  to 
disbelieve  the  doctrine  of  the  Tiinity,  or  the  atone  men  r, 
and  divinity  of  Christ,  and  unite  with  the  Calvinists,  in 
one  sentiment,  at  least — tl|£t  of  abhorring  episcopacy, 
and  of  considering  the  established  church,  as  a  syst 
raised  by  priestcraft,  and  supported  by  superstition. 


LETTER  XXXI. 

THE  methodises  are  comparative!;/  a  new  sect,  and 
sprung  up,  about  sixty  years  ago,  under  the  auspices  of 
John  Wesley,  and  George  Whitfield,  then  students  at 
Oxford.  They  received  their  name,  from  affecting 
to  live  by  a  stricter  regimen  and  method,  than  other 
people. 

They  have  been  long  divided  into  two  classes,  ac- 
cording to  the  different  principles,  espoused  by  their 
leaders.  The  first  followed  the  opinions  of  Arminius, 
under  the  guidance  of  Wesley,  who  is  still  a  very  ven- 
erable looking  patriarch,  at  their  head  ;  and  the  o 
believing  divine  decrees,  foreknowledge,  reprobation 
and  election,  are  more  strictly  members  of  the  I 
E  2 


5t  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

(only  that  they  do  not  admit  its  discipline)  having  long 
since  lost  their  original  director.* 

I  do  not  know,  that  the  methodists,  (particularly 
they,  who  follow  Weslcv,)  are  dissenters  from  the  es- 
tablishment, further  than  in  having  separate  meetings 
to  inkindle  and  inspirit  the  zeal  of  their  followers  ;  a 
circumstance,  which  they  con  :cive  to  be  much  neglect- 
ed by  the  regular  clergy.  They  are  baptized  with  us  ; 
attend  our  services  and  sacrament  ;  admire  our  litur- 
gy ;  and  only  blame  us  for  our-lukewarmness  and  want 
of  energy  and  animation.  This  censure,  it  is  true, 
comes  but  with  a  very  ill  grace  from  such  a  people  ; 
but,  I  fear,  we  cannot  easily  refute  it. 

They  had  originally  a  great  share  of  enthusiasm.  But 
it  is  greatly  softened  by  the  indulgence  they  have  re- 
ceived, and  mellowed  down  by  time.  They  are  no 
longer,  a  new  ;  they  are  no  longer  a  persecuted  sect. 

The  journals  of  Wesley,  written  in  the  infancy  of  his 
career,  are  a  strange  medley  of  goodness  and  enthusi- 
asm. The  old  man  has  lived  long  enough  to  have  seen 
his  error,  'That  glow  of  imagination  is  considerably  a- 
bated,  which  mistook  shadows  for  substance,  and  made 
liction  pass  for  truth. 

The  great  error  amongst  this  people,  is  their  employ- 
ing  such  low,  illiterate  men,  as  their  instructors,  and 
fancying  them  under  the  immediate  guidance  of  divine 
inspiration — preaching  up  the  necessity  of  instantaneous 
conversion,  and  justification  by  a  sort  of  miracle — mak- 
ing Faith  to  consist  in  a  full  assurance  of  salvation,  and 
denouncing  damnation  against  those,  who  have  it  not 
in  this  super-eminent  degree — and  lastly,  in  supposing 
this  assurance  to  depend  on  certain,  inward  extraordi- 
nary impulses,  rath-r  than  the  scriptures. 

These  sentiments  lead  many  artful  people  into  a 
wicked  pretence  of  feelings  and  assurances,  which  they 

*  George  Whitfield.  Both  before  and  since  his  death, 
"t\e  Countess  of  Huntingdon  has  been  a  persen  of  great 
,;.ila§nse  among  the  latter  class  of  Methodists. 


LETTERS    TO    A    tfOUNG    LADY.  5& 

have  not ;  others  of  zvarm  imaginations  to  the  belief  of 
what  is  only  chimerical,  and  plunge  still  more  of  honest, 
timid  minds,  or  an  hypochondriacal  temperament,  into 
melancholy  and  despair. 

The  Savior,  doubtless,  can  forgive  sins  to  xvhom,  and 
at  whatever  moment,  he  pleases.  A  thief,  upon  the  cross, 
was  a  miracle  of  his  mercy  ;  but  this  is  not  the  ordina- 
ry method  of  his  providence  ;  there  are,  undoubtedly, 
thousands  of  excellent  people,  who  pass  through  the 
world  without  such  a  full  assurance  of  faith  ;  and  the  spir- 
itual life,  like  that  of  animals  or  vegetables,  is  generally 
progressive.  We  grow  imperceptibly  u  from  strength 
to  strength,"  and,  though  the  peace  of  God  may  be  dif- 
fused through  our  consciences,  we  dare  not  say,  i(  that 
we  have  already  attained/' 

The  methodis's  were,  once,  extremely  lavish  in  their 
censures  of  others  ;  but  justice  obliges  me  to  confess, 
that  they  are  now,  in  general,  an  harmless,  inoffensive 
and  pious  people.  .  If  they  be  gloomy,  it  is  their  own 
misfortune  ;  if  they  go  mourning  all  their  days,  theirs 
is  the  sorrow  ;  the  world  in  general,  is  too  dissipated 
and  unreflecting. 

As  to  their  leader,  he  is  doubtless  a  prodigy.  What- 
ever be  the  merit  or  demerit  of  his  opinions,  his  indefa- 
tigable labours,  activity,  pilgrimages,  zeal,  and  resolu- 
tion, challenge  our  amazement.  An  old  man  of  nearly 
ninety,  rising  constantly  at  four  o'clock  in  the  depth  of 
winter,  preaching  frequently,  on  the  same  day,  journey- 
ing from  place  to  place,  "  and  from  one  people  to  ano- 
ther kingdom  j"  himself  the  bishop,  secretary,  judge, 
governor  of  his  people,  the  main  spring  of  such  a  vast, 
and  complicated  machine,  is  a  phenomenon,  that  will  van- 
ish from  our  earthly  horizon,  when  he  ceases  to  exist. 
His  opinions,  it  is  said,  do  not  injure  his  cheerfulness. 
Time  has  planted  few  wrinkles  on  his  forehead,  though 
it  has  covered  his  head  with  snow. 

Notwithstanding  the  religious  zeal,  which  works 
wonders  in  his  favor,  and  the  deference,  naturally  paid 
to  the  first  founder  of  a  sect,  particularly  when  possess* 


56  :  o    A.    vo:  <Y. 

ed  ui  any  genius  or  learning,  yet  his  peaceful  govern- 
ment of  so  numerous  a  people,  for  such  a  length 'of 
time,  is  a  proof    •  irdiuary   talents   and  address. 

Whenever  lie  dies,  Lis  disciples  will  dwindle.  1  hey 
will  not  easily  agree  about  a  t>uccesscr.  No  successor 
can  have  so  undisputed  a  sovereignty,  or  possess  so  un- 
molested ■  throne.  They  wilt  separate  from  the  church  ; 
and  the  separation  will  be  fatal.  It  will  be  the  loss  of 
union,  consequence  and  power.  The  republic  v  ill  pro- 
bably be  divided  in  its  councils,  and  have  Ices  dispatch 
and  energy  in  the  execution. 


LETTER  xxxrr. 

THE  Baptists  or  Anabaptists  are  species  of  the  in- 
dependent dissenters,  who  diiTcr  from  their  brethren, 
chiefly  in  their  mode  of  administering  baptism^  which 
they  conceive,  should  always  be  by  immersion.*  There 
were  many  of  this  persuasion  amongst  the  reformed  a- 
broad.  In  Holland,  Germany  and  the  North,  they 
were  called  Anabaptists,  or  Monnonites  ;  in  Piedmont 
and  the  South,  they  were  found  amongst  the  Albigen- 
ses.  In  England,  they  are  few,  and  at  present,  little 
mentioned. 

The  Quakers  arose  about  the  middle  of  the  seven- 
teenth century, j'  and  had  their  names  affixed  upon  them 
in  derision  from  the  violent  emotions,  with  which  tkey 
affected  to  be  agitated,  when  they  conceived  themselves 
under  the  more  immediate  impulse  of  the  spirit.  They 
explain  the  whole  letter  of  scripture  into  a  kind  of  in- 
ward and  spiritual  allusion.  1  hey  never  speak,  preach, 
or  exhort  in  public,  but  when  they  fancy  themselves  to 
be  moved  by  the  spirit ;  they  set  aside  the  necessity  of 
the  external  sacraments,  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper, 

*  They  likewise  reject  the  baptism  of  infants. 

f  Geerge  Fox  seems  to  have  been  their  founder  a- 
bout  the  year  1G49. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YoUNG    LA  Dr.  5T 

and  would  certainly  be  right,  if  men  had  no  matter  in 
their  composition,  and  the  imagination  was  not  to  be 
awakened  through  the  medium  of  the  senses. 

They  acknowledge  no  head,  but  Christ,  no  master 
but  God  ;  refuse  to  pay  tithes,  and  think  the  common 
civilities  of  life  profane  and  unchristian.  They  even 
appear  covered  in  the  presence  of  their  sovereign,  and 
address  him  with  the  familiar  appellation  of  'Thou. — 
They  are  a  religious  community  within  themselves,  and 
the  government  is  wholly  internal.  You  may  see  their 
principles  ably  delineated  by  their  ingenious  apologist, 
Barclay. 

There  are,  however,  many  excellent  traits  in  the 
character  of  the  quakers.  They  are,  on  the  whole,  a 
peaceable,  inoffensive  people  ;  support  their  own  poor  ; 
have  manifested,  for  a  long  time,  from  a  spirit  of  hu- 
manity, a  strong  and  pointed  opposition  to  the  very  in- 
famous practice  of  the  slave  trade  ;  they  never  disturb 
the  peace  of  the  church,  or  shackle  the  wheels  of  gov- 
ernment, and  are  tolerated  in  all  their  innocent  pecul- 
iarities by  a  liberal  and  enlightened  kingdom. 


LETTER  XXXIII. 

THE  Moravians,  or  the  brethren  are  a  species  of 
protestants,  who,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  threw  off  the 
despotic  yoke  of  Rome,  animated  by  the  zealous  exhor- 
tations and  heroic  example  of  John  Huss.f  Zinzen- 
dorff  was  a  very  eminent  leader  of  this.  sect;'{and,  for  his 
signal  services  amongst  them,  has  been  distinguished 
by  the  name  of  Papaf  or  spiritual  father  ;  and   a  Mon- 

*  John  Huss  and  Jemm  of  Prague,  suffered  martyr- 
dom at  Prague  in  the  year  14M-. 

f  This  was  rather  an  appellation,  which  very  naturally 
was  used  in  the  familiar  circle  of  his  family.  In  the 
writings  published  by  the  United  Brethren,  hey  gener- 
ally style  him,  the  Ordinary  of  the  Brethren. 


58  LETTERS  TO  A  10UNG  LADY. 

sieur  la  Trobe,  lived  id  the  rar;:;  polls,  and  made  con- 
tinual circuits  amongst  them,  has,  more  lately,  acquired 
great  celebrity  in  their  amials. 

They  have  more  than  once  passed  through  the  fiery 
ordeal  of  persecution.  Their  religious  principles,  how- 
ever, are  sound  and  orthodox.  At  a  period,  v. 
great  clamors  were  raised  against  them,  Potter  the  thea 
learned  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  pronounced  them  a 
protestant  episcopal  community,  as  they  retained  no 
doctrines  that  were  repugnant  to  the  articles  of  the 
church  of  England  j  and  the  pious  bishop  of  Sodor  and 
Man  (Wilson)  was  created  an  honorary  president  ot 
(what  is  called)  the  reformed  Tropus,  in  Umtrusjra* 
trwriy  (the  unity  of  the  brethren.) 

Their  discipline  and  mode  of  government  are  very 
lingular.  They  form  within  themselves  a.  religious 
community,  independent  of  every  other,  and  extend  to 
all  their  brethren  throughout  the  world.  They  are  not 
Bufferred  to  intermarry  with  people,  of  a  different  per- 
suasion ;  they  have  groups  of  religous  houses,  scatter- 
ed through  the  kingdom ;  they  have  choirs  of  single 
sisters  and  brethren  ;  the  first  are  occupied  in  every 
kind  of  ingenious  needlework,  in  which  they  have  made 
an  amazing  proficiency,  and  the  latter  in  all  sorts  of  me- 
chanical employments  ;  and  their  earnings,  after  a  main- 
tenance for  themselves,  which  they  receive  in  the  ho: 
go  into  one  common  fund  for  the  support  of  the  general 
society,*  and  particularly  of  the  children,  belonging  to 
the  married  brethren  and  sisters,  which  are  t\(]y  educa- 
ted and  clothed  in  the?e  religious  seminaries. 

The  morals  and  chastity  of  their  women,  are  guard- 
ed with  a  verv  peculiar  vigilance  ;  they  are  not  permit- 
ted to  step  without  the  wails  of  their  asylum,  unaccom- 

*  There  is  no  such  general  fund  among  the  United 
Brethren.  Each  member  of  their  Community  gives, 
without  constraint  what  he  pleases  for  supporting  any 
of  their  institutions,  or  their  Missions  among  the  Hea- 
then. 


LET  r E  R  S  TO  A  YOLW G  T.  A  DY.  59 

panied  by  a  supcrinttndant  of  their  own  sex;*  when 
any  of  them,  or  the  brethren  is  married,  it  is  transacted 
by  the  casting  of  lots,  and  supposed  to  he  ordained  by  a 
particular  providence,  and  the  union  is  generally  form- 
ed with  some  members  of  their  society  abroad.f  They 
much  resemble  the  methodists,  in  having  private  con- 
ferences, classes,  leaders,  and  examinations  concerning 
the  state  and  progress  of  grace  in  the  soul,  and  none  are 
permitted  to  recti ve  the  sacrament,  without  having  previ- 
ously passed  through  a  very  severe  process  of  religious 
examination. 

Their  worship  consists  principally  in  singing,  and 
hence,  perhaps,  their  societies  are  called  choirs.  Their 
residences  have  much  the  air  of  religious  houses  ;  and 
their  single  brethren  and  sisters  arc  often  in  the  morti- 
fied state  of  involuntary  ftiars  or  nuns.  Their  devo- 
tions, like  those  of  a  convent,  are  almost  perpetual  ;J 
and  they  seemed  to  have  forgotten,  that  they  were  born 
for  society,  as  well  as  for  themselves. || 

*  The  authoi's  assertion  is  to  be  understood  only  of 
the  growing  youth  of  the  sex,  who  are  not  of  age. 

f  Nof  generally,  but  sometimes  it  has  been  the  case 
as  with  other  inhabitants  of  these  kingdoms. 

\  Their  stated  social  devotions  are  limited  to  morn- 
ing and  evening  prayers,  and  a  weekly  exhortation  by 
the  Minister. 

||  They  carry  on  trade  and  manufactures  like  other 
useful  citizens  ;  and  though  they  never  urge  any  mem- 
ber of  the  different  denominations  in  Christendom  to 
become  members  of  their  Church,  being  averse  to  pro- 
selyte-making ;  yet,  from  a  full  conviction  that  they 
were  not  born  for  themselves  only  they  have  made  un- 
common exertions  for  the  Conversion  of  the  Heathen  ; 
for  example  ;  of  the  Greenlanders,  Eskimos  North  A- 
merican  Indiar.s,  of  the  Negroes  in  the  West  Indian 
islands,  of  the  Negroes,  Indians  and  free  Negroes  tn 
Surinam,  likewise  of  the  natives  of  the  East  Indie3  and 


69  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY1 

Such  restraints  on  nature  are  not  tolerable,  and  na- 
ture will,  sometimes,  assert  her  rights,  and  stain  their 
history  with  indiscretions.  We  were  sent  here  to  be 
tried.  Innocence,  that  subsists  only  by  the  absence  of 
temptation,  scarcely  deserves  the  name  ;  perpetual  de- 
votion is  an  impossibility :  it  is  as  impracticable,  as  that 
the  eye  should  be  ever  looking  at  the  same  object  ;  and, 
if  I  do  not  much  mistake,  that  piety  is  most  ardent, 
whkh  knows  most  of  the  world,  from  dear  bought  expe- 
rience, and  finding  a  scene  of  mortification  and  vanity, 
appeals  to  heaven  for. more  substantial  satisfaction. 

There  are  many  scattered  societies  of  Moravians  in 
England,  but  they  appear  to  be  a  declining  sect.  It  is 
immured  ignorance  or  prejudice,  which  has  led  Chris- 
tians to  separate,  from  each  other  for  little  frivolous  dis- 
tinctions. The  era,  I  hope,  is  coming,  which  will  bring 
us  "  more  into  one  common  fold,  under  one  shepherd, 
Christ  Jesus,  the  Righteous." 

There  is  certainly  a  great  mixture  of  good  in  this 
people.  What  a  pity,  that  they  cannot  join  with  us  in 
offering  a  rational  service,  and  lifting  up  one  common 
hallelujah,  to  the  great  God  and  Father  of  all. 

LETTER  XXXIV. 

I  KNOW  not  why  the  mystics  are  so  called,  unless 

it  be  for  discovering  mystical  passages  in  the  scripture, 

or  making  religion  at   large  wear  the  the  appearance  of 

mystery.     They  are  a  very  ancient  sect,  and  sprung  up 

rlyj  as  about  the  close  of  the  third  century. 

This  people,  by  a  very  singular  kind  of  ingenuity, 
discover  a  spiritual  or  hidden  sense  in  the  most  literal 
passages  of  scripture,  and  indeed  convert  the  whole, 
rather  into  an  amusing  allegory,  than  a  plain  and  simple 
narrative  of  facts. 

Thev  hold  all  divine  truth  to  come,  bv  an  immediate 
influx,  from  the  spiritual  world,  and  pretend  to  a  knowl- 

of  the  Calmucks  in  Asiatic  Russia.    See  Cran's  Historv 
of  the  Brethren  and  History  of  Greenland. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

edge  of  God,  and  heavenly  things,  that  can  only  be  at- 
tained  in  this  extraordinary  manner.  Sometimes  they 
are  called  quietists,  because  they  maintain,  that  the  soul 
should  be  in  a  stilt,  quiet,  passive  state,  undistracted 
with  noise  and  cares,  and  almost  superior  to  sense  or 
matter,  in  order  to  receive  this  divine  illumination. 
Their  station,  in  the  thermometer  of  different  religious 
orders,  is  that  of  lighter  elements,  carried  by  superior 
subtilty  into  the  air,  whilst  others,  composed  of  grosser 
matter,  adhere,  by  an  invincible  necessity,  to  the  earth, 
till  death  dissolves  the  union  betwixt  soul  and  body. 

The  mystic  theology  seems  to  be  the  philosophy  of 
Plato,  refined  and  grafted  upon  a  Christian  flock  ;  the 
quixotism  of  religion,  which  affects  to  attain  in  life,  what 
the  scriptures  have  taught  us  to  expect  only  after  death; 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Almighty,  visions,  revela- 
tions, almost  intuition  ! 

If  the  mystics  would  reason  for  a  moment,  (but  peo- 
ple, under  the  guidance  of  immediate  illumination  are 
above  the  vulgar  shackles  of  reason,)  they  would  see 
that  such  a  subtile,  metaphysical  system, is  poorly  fitted 
for  the  reception  of  mankind  at  large,  who  can  scarcely 
be  brought  to  understand,  relish;  or  practice  the  most 
obvious  truths  ;  they  would  acknowledge  that  divinity 
to  be  the  best,  which  does  not,  with  the  lightness  of 
some  matter,  ascend  into  the  air,  but  contents  itself  on 
earth,  with  inculcating  and  enforcing  the  most' obvious 
duties  of  common  life  ;  the  reciprocal  obligations  of 
parents  and  children,  masters  and  servants,  kings  and 
subjects  ;  the  subjection  of  the  passions,  the  discipline 
of  reason,  and  the  duty  of  all  to  one  common  God.  They 
would  know  that  their  opinions  must  create  an  indiffer- 
ence, or  a  fancied  superiority  to  those  established  ordi- 
nances, which  are  the  very  basis  of  all  religion,  and  that 
\i all  men  were  governed  by  their  passive  quietude  there 
would  be  none  to  encounter  with  the  vices  and  disor- 
ders of  a  mixed,  heterogeneous  state.  Christians 
would  "  cease  to  be' the  light  of  the  world,  or  the  salt 
of  the  earth  ;"  there  would  be  none  to  stem,  bv  power- 
F 


62  LETTERS    T9    A    YOUNG   LADY. 

fill,  turbid  eloquence  the  ragings  of  iniquity,  or  let  u  the 
lustre  of  their  example  shine  before  men." 

Our  Lord's  piety  was  not  of  this  kind.  Jt  sought  not 
the  indulgence  of  recluse  contemplation.  It  was  not 
passive,  but  active  ;  every  where,  with  the  sinner  and 
the  saint,  to  reprove  the  one  and  encourage  the  other  ; 
in  the  wilderness  to  pray,  and  in  the  world,  to  reform  ; 
at  a  marriage  "  to  rejoice  with  them  that  did  rejoice, 
and  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  to  weep"  with  his  afflicted 
friends. 


LETTER  XXXV. 

THE  mystic  theology  boasts  some  great  names. 
Madame  de  Guion  was  a  wann  espouser  of  it  in  France  ; 
a  woman  of  great  fashion  and  consequence,  remarkable 
for  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  and  the  regularity  of  her 
conduct,  but  of  a  capricious  unsettled  temper,  and  lia- 
ble to  the  seductions  of  a  warm  imagination. 

The  opinions  of  this  lady  made  a  great  noise  in  that 
country,  about  the  year  1687.  They  were  confuted, 
some  time  afterwards,  by  the  celebrated  Bossuet.  The 
great  and  good  Fenelbn  undertook  her  vindication  ; 
but  his  book  was  condemned  by  Pope  Innocent  the 
twelfth. 

The  teutonic  philosopher  (Jacob  Behmen,)  was  a  kind 
cf  father  to  this  sect,  and  published  a  book,  which  con- 
tains a  system  of  the  most  absurd  and  incoherent  rever- 
ies, that  ever  gained  an  admission  into  the  world.  It 
is  a  species  of  moral  chemistry,  and  occult  philosophy, 
a.  bewildering  explanation,  and  a  cloudy  li^ht,  which  I 
will  venture  to  say,  that  neither  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  nor 
Mr.  Locke,  with  all  their  clearness  of  conception,  could 
have  been  able  to  understand. 

Law,  who  wrote  his  Serious  Call,  (a  nonjuror  of 
Northamptonshire,)  was  an  abettor  to  these  doctrines  ; 
a  man  of  very  exemplary  life,  and  discriminating  tal- 
ents ;  but  it  was  an  honor,  reserved  for  the  late  Baron 
^vedenborg  to  carry  them  to  their  very  height  of  per- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  63 

fection.*  Compared  with  his,  all  other  writings,  on  the 
subject,  are  but  the  morning  contrasted  with  the  perfect 
day.  He  tells  us  confidently  of  his  unrestrained  com- 
munications with  the  spiritual  world,  visions,  revela- 
tions ;  he  gives  to  every  portion  of  scripture,  a  natural, 
a  spiritual,  and  a  celestial  sense  ;  he  describes  to  us  the 
very  form,  and  furniture,  and  apparatus  of  heaven  ;  he 
retains  to  the  reader  his  conversations  with  angels ;  he 
describes  the  condition  of  Jews,  Mahometans,  Chris- 
tians, of  the  English,  French,  Dutch,  of  clergymen  of 
every  denomination,  laity,  Sec.  in  another  world  ;  he 
has  a  key  to  unlock  all  the  hitherto  impenetrable  secrets 
of  futurity,  and  already  whilst  in  the  body,  "  knows 
even  as  he  is  known." 

What  is  the  inference  ?  When  imagination  is  permit- 
ted to  usurp  the  place  of  reason,  fanaticism  becomes  a 
christian  duty,  and  enthusiasm  the  more  credible,  in. 
proportion  as  it  exceeds  all  bouads  of  credibility. 

What  can  induce  men  of  sense  to  hearken  to  these 
dreams  !  Early  prejudices,  confined  reading,  singular 
acquaintance,  a  recluse  life,  a  gloomy,  speculative,  ab- 
stracted turn  of  mind,  and  associating  together,  lor  a 
long  time,  particular,  however,  incongruous,  idea3. 

This  will  account  for  any  reveries.  It  accounts  for 
insanity.  And  men,  from  this  cause,  may,  in  a  partic- 
ular instance  (suppose  religion,)  be  insane,  though  in  all 
other  respects  their  minds  are  ever  so  enlightened,  or 
ever  so  expansive. 

It  must  however,  be  said  in  favor  of  the  mystics,  that 
their  principles  inculcate  in  the  strongest  manner,  the 
necessity  of  spiritual  holiness  and  regeneration  ;  that 
their  lives  in  general,  are  unblemished  and  exemplary. 
They  are  a  quiet  retired  people,  who  let  the  world  go 
as  it  will,  as  to  riches  ©r  promotions  ;  who  enjoy  in- 

*  Those  who  embrace  the  tenets  of  Baron  Sweden - 
borg,  have  very  lately  begun  to  form  themselves  into  a 
separate  connexion,  under  the  name  of  the  New  Jem- 
salem  Church. 


64  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

deed,  in  a  passive  superiority,  those  tumults  of  the 
crowd,  as  higher  spirits  may  condescend  to  look  down, 
with  a  pitying  smile,  on  the  toils  of  mortals  ;  and  who 
deny  themselves  all  the  gayer  pleasures,  in  order  to  rel- 
ish, in  a  sublimer  degree,  all  the  raptures  of  devotion. 

If  the  opinions  of  the  quietest  spring  from  spiritual 
,  it  is  more  than  they  suspect  ;  for  they  preach  up 
die  deepest  self-abasement,  annihilation,  and  poverty  of 
&|  irk  ;  they  almost  starve  the  animal  part  of  their  na- 
ture, to  nurse  the  angelic,  and  half  live  on  meditation. 

If  such  people  have  errors,  they  should  be  touched 
with  a  gentle  hand.  .  If  they  are  misled,  it  is  in  amiable 
company.  There  is  not  a  much  more  lovely  name  than 
that  of  Feneloo.  Few  men  have  possessed  such  a  sweet- 
ness of  piety. 

I  have  ^ut  one  wish  for  them,  myself*,  or  any  other 
sect,  and  it  is  a  wish  of  charity  ;  that  what  is  wrong  in 
any  of  us,  may  be  done  away,  because  I  long  to  meet 
them  all  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 


.   LF.TTER  XXXVI. 

THEOLOGY,  like  arts  and  sciences,  has  its  scho- 
lastic, technical  terms,  and  I  will  endeavor  to  explain 
them. 

The  Arians  are  so  called  from  Arias,  a  presbyter  of 
the  church  of  Alexandria,  in  the  year  315.  He  believ- 
ed Christ  to  be  God,  but  conceived  him  inferior  to  the 
Father,  as  to  his  deity  and  essence.  The  term,  at  pre- 
sent, is  indiscriminately  applied  to  all,  who  in  any  de- 
gree, embrace  this  opinion. 

This  heresy  was  first  revived  bv  Mr.  Winston,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  works  of 
Dr.  Clarke  afterwards  entailed  upon  him  the  name 
Semi  Arian  (Half-Arian.) 

Socinians  derive  their  name  from  the  illustrious  fam- 
ily of  Sozzini,  which  flwuvished,  along  time,  at  Sienna  in 
Tuscany,  and  produced  several  great,  and  eminent  men. 
Faustus  Socinus,  the  great  author  of  this  sect,  was  born 


BETTERS  to  a  young  LADY  DO 

at  Sienna  in  1539,  denied  the  divinity  of  Christ,  the 
personality  of  the  Holy  Gho3t,  and  the  perpetuity  of 
baptism,  as  a  divine  prdinanre. 

The  most  distinguished  men,  who  have  favored  this 
opinion,  are  Le  Clerc,  Biddle,  Lurdaer,  Lo.vmai:, 
Fleming,  Lindsey,  &c. 

LETTER  XXXVII. 

TttE  Deists  are  so  called,  perhaps,  from  the  Latin 
word,  Den?)  a  God  ;  because  they  acknowledge  q 
the  existence  of  a  God,  profess  no  particular  form  or 
system  of  religion,  and  only  follow  the  law  and  ligjtt  bi 
nature.  Of  these,  however,  there  are  many 
from  the  moderate  ones,  who  believe  revelatkta,  in  a 
certain,  qualified  sense,  to  those,  who  absolutely  disa- 
vow it  in  all.  The  first  who  figured  or  wro-.e,  in  this 
country,  was  Baron  Herbert  of  Cherbury. 

Deism  is  generally  embraced,  either  by  men  of  a  cold, 
phlegmatic,  philosophical  cast,  who  are  indisposed  to 
believe  any  thing,  for  which  they  have  not  absolute  de- 
monstration, or  by  those,  who,  having  never  thought  or 
reasoned,  consider  it,*as  a  mark  of  wit  and  talents,  to 
set  up  for  unbelievers. 

The  first  deserves  an  answer,  and  it  is  easy.  All 
nature  is  full  of  mysteries,  as  well  as  revelation  ;  the 
union  of  the  soul  and  .body  is  a  miracle  ;  the  infinite  di- 
visibility of  matter,  and  the  idea  of  an  eternal  duration 
are  absolutely  incomprehensible  ;  nothing  can  be  \ 
so,  than  the  necessary  self-exhter.ee  of  God.  The  lat- 
ter are  better  answered  with  irony.  Their  infidelity  is 
a fashionable  livery.  When  deism  is  not  in  vogue  a- 
mong  the  gay  circles,  they  will  soon  put  it  off,  and  dis- 
avow their  having  worn  so  obsolete  a  garb. 

A  third  class  of  deists  may  be  said  to  spring  up  from 
the  superstitions   of  Rome.     Great  men,  who  Uve  i' 
catholic  countries,  are  disgusted  with  their  bigotry, 
are  apt  to  think  religion  in  general  only  an  tmpoiition  o:, 
the  credulity  of  mankind.     Was  not  this  vvi 

F  2 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

all  that  splendid  group,  Rousseau,  Voltaire,  the  Abbe 
de  Raynal,  and  Helvetius  who  wrote  a  famous  treatise, 
de  V  Esprit  P  Genius  hates  shackles,  and  shackles  are 
the  peculiar  manufacture  of  Rome. 

A  fourth  class  of  deists  are  continually  produced  by 
:he  love  of  fame,  venting  itself  in  paradoxes,  and  sin- 
gular opinions,  to  make  a  noise  ;  by  an  aversion  to  the 
strictness  of  gospel  morality,  and  by  criminal  passions, 
which  endeavor  to  hide  their  guilt  in  the  shades  of  un- 
belief. Some  of  these  have  commenced  authors,  and 
endeavored  to  immortalize  their  errors  by  the  press. 
15ut  their  books,  on  a  near  view,  have  been  found  only 
gilt  and  lettered  with  vanity,  and  have  quickly  been  con- 
signed to  the  oblivion  they  deserved.  Whilst  we  are  in 
this  world,  enemies  will  mix  these  tares  with  the  good 
seed  of  the  gospel.  We  must  wait  till  harvest,  to  see 
the  final  separation. 

The  deists  are  the  greatest  enemies,  of  all  others,  to 
true  religion.  Their  pride  and  scepticism  stop  up  every 
avenue,  by  which  divine  grace  and  conviction  should  be 
conveyed  to  the  soul.  Nature,  with  them,  is  onlv  a  ne- 
itessary  system  of  causes  and  effects.  Creation  rose  in- 
to its  present  splendor,  by  a  kind  of  fatality.  Thun- 
ders roar,  lightnings  flash,  volcanos  vomit,  tempests 
rage,  seas  overflow,  millions  perish,  and  kingdoms  are 
'\30Ialed,  only  by  a  train  of  stated,  inevitable  causes, 
exclude  a  first  efficient  mover,  and  think  not  of 
rovidence,  which,  at  a  certain  moment,  and  for 
the  wisest,  moral  causes,  predestined  s-ach  events. 

Few  of  these  men  have  diedin  peace.  Their  forti- 
tude has  deserted  them,  when  tney  wanted  its  support. 
Their  philosophy  has  vanished,  as  their  strength  has 
abated.  The  blast  of  death  run  demolished  their  splen- 
did fabric,  and  their  hopes  and  peace  have  perishtd  in 
the  ruins.* 

*  Atheist  is  the  name,  and  Atheism  the  doctrine,  of 
such  a  person,  who  entirely  denies  the  existence  of  God- 
Whether  anv  man  ever  did  in  his  heart  believe  this  ab- 


IiETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  67 

LETTER  XXXVIIL 

MY    DEAR    GIRL, 

TRAVELLERS,  that  have  made  (whit  is  called) 
the  grand  tour,  felicitate  themselves  on  their  return  to 
England,  and  pronounce  it  the  happiest  country  in  the 
world.  And  such  it  certainly  is,  if  not  in  beauty  and 
deliciousness  of  climate,  yet  in  that  absolute  security  of 
property  it  enjoys  above  all  other  nations,  and  that  lib- 
erty ^  which  endears  every  possession. 

If  yovi  have  made  proper  observations  on  the  differ- 
ent, religious  sects,  that  have  passed  in  review  before 
us,  you  will  feel  much  the  same  sentiment,  when  you 
compare  them  with  your  own  church.  You  will  be  the 
moral  traveller,  returned  from  more  unpleasant  scenes, 
to  taste  the  blessings  of  true  repose  and  dignity  at  home. 
Nor  is  this  idea,  I  hope,  the  effect  of  prejudice,  but 
springs  from  solid  reason  and  conviction. 

The  Church  of  England  *  has  enough  of  ceremony 
and  external  decencv  to  strike  the  senses,  and  to  sup- 
port the  dignity  of  religion,  in  the  eves  of  the  vulgar, 
and  vet  nothing  that  can  justly  offend  the  delicacy  of  the 
sublimest  understanding.  It  aims  not'  at  the  total  ab- 
straction of  dissenters,  nor  affects  the  superstitious 
forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  Its 
piety  has  a  rational,  sedate,  composed  air,    and   is   uni- 

surd  notion,  is  doubtful.  But  whoever  pretends  to  it, 
mav  read  his  character  in  Psalm  xiv.  5,  1.  *  The  fool 
hajth  said  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  God.. 

"*  The  Church  of  England,  together  with  the  estab- 
lished Church  of  Ireland,  forms  only  one  of  the  three 
leading  divisions  of  the  Protestants.  Lutheranism  is 
the  established  religion  in  Sweden,  Denmark,  Norway, 
Livonia,  and  a  considerable  part  of  Germany  ;  and 
Culvanism  or  Presbyterianism  is  the  established  relig- 
ion in  Scotland,  Holland,  and  in  several  parts  of  Ger- 
SOany  and  Swisserland. 


o3  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

fcrmly  grave  *nd  decent,  without  pretending  to  the 
flights,  the  fervors,  and  the  visions  of  some,  modern  fa- 
natic. 

The  sacraments  are  not  ridiculously  multiplied,  nor 
has  human  policy  invented  them.  They  are  but  two  in 
number,  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper  ;  both  possi- 
lively  enjoined  by  Christ,  and  neither  of  them  supposed 
to  have  anv  further  merit,  than  as  they  lead  to  purity  of 
heart  and  conduct.  The  liturgy  has  beeu  admired  by 
the  greatest  men  ;  the  ministers  of  this  church  atje,  in 
general,  an  ornament  to  their  sacred  profession,  and 
perhaps,  on  the  whole,  men  oT  as  great  learning,  can- 
dor, piety  and  moderation,  as  are  to  he  found  under 
any  communion.  That  there  were  no  exceptions,  would 
be  a  }?:irai'!c*  There  was  a  JucLts  amongst  twelve  a- 
postles. 

After  all  the  fine-spun  theories  of  liberty,  every  soci- 
ety must  have  a  mode  of  government  ;  and  that  gov- 
ernment supposes  power  to  be  lodged  some  where  for 
the  general  good.  That  of  the  Church  of  England  is 
vested  in  bishops  ;  no  one  will  dispute  the  antiquity,  or 
perhaps  the  usefulness  of  the  order,  whatever  he  may 
object  to  its  temporal  distinctions.  St.  Paul  appointed 
bishops  in  the  primitive  church. 

Much  abuse  is  often  le\elled  against  the  sacred 
bench.  But  the  shafts  come  from  envy,  and  are  point- 
ed by  religious  prejudice  and  resentment.  It  is,  in  fact, 
their  temporal  emoluments,  -that  provoke  this  ungener- 
ous kind  of  persecution.  But  if  they  must  attend  par* 
liament,  they  have  indeed  no  super- abundant  provision. 
Whilst  it  is  thought  expedient  to  have  a  national  churjh, 
the  interest^  of  it,  as  connected  with  the  state,  mustfre- 
quentlv  be  the  subject  of  padiamentarv  discussion  ;  and 
it  would  be  very  extraordinary-  indeed,  if  they,  who  are 
most  immediately  concerned,  should  not  have  the  liber- 
ty of  giving  their- opinion  and  votes  on  the  occasion, 
Whatever  equal  tight,  from  education  or  abilities,  the 
bishops  may  possess,  along  with  thi  temporal  peers  of 
the  realm,  to  deliver  their  sentiments  oo  any.  other  sub- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  69 

ject,  they  exercise  it  very  rarely,  and  with  great  discre- 
tion. Their  honors  too,  it  should  be  observed,  usually 
come  late  in  life,  and  the  h->pe  of  attaining  them,  at 
some  distant  period,  is  doubtless,  amongst  the  younger 
clergy,  a  strong  incentive  to  emulation. 

Hut  prejudice  apart,  the  bi-hops,  in  general,  perform 
their  sacred  duties  with  great  decorum,  and  the  prsent 
bench  can  boast  the  names  of  several  who,  without  the 
aid  of  purple,  would  be  an  ornament  to    human  nature. 

To  suppose  the  Church  of  England  without  defects 
would  be  supposing  it  not  a  human  establishment.  But 
innovation  in  religious  system  is  a  dangerous  experi- 
ment. Projects  of  a  reformation  in  our  liturgv  and  ar- 
ticles have  come  from  very  suspicions  quarters,  and 
worn  no  very  promising  app  arance.  The  little  errors 
oF  this  church  art?  letter  trusted  to  the  enlightened  pru- 
dence and  moderation  of  its  governors,  lhar.  the  rash 
and  daring  spirit  of  adventurers,  who,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  only  attempting  to  remove  its  rubbish,  might 
artfully  undermine  the  very  foundation,  on  which  it  rests. 
They  who  have  talked  most  loudly  on  the  subject  of  an 
alteration,  have  certainly  displayed  no  very  great  at- 
tachment to  the  essentials  of  out  holy  faith. 

VVe.  might  perhaps,  borrow  from  sectaries,  without 
any  inconvenience,  a  little  more  zeal,  fervour  and  ani- 
mation. If  our  .internal  discipline,  like  theirs,  was 
more  rigidly  enforced  ;  and  if,  like  them,  we  had  a  few 
more  conferences  with  our  people,  and  an  opportunity 
of  keeping  the  unworthy  from  the  altar,  we  should  be 
so  much  nearer  the  model  of  perfection. 

But  alas  !  the  great  evil  amongst  us,  is  a  want  of  en- 
couragement. The  Church,  at  any  rate,  has  but  a  small 
pittance.  A  learned  prelate*  has  observed,  that  if  all 
its  dignities,  (bishoprics  included)  were  annulled,  and 
their  produce  thrown  into  one  common  equalling 
fund,  for  the  general  support,  the  amount  of  annual 
sahry  to  every  individual,  would  not  exceed  120/.  or  at 
msst  150/. 

*  TheB— pcfL-d-ff. 


70  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY, 

Under  such  circumstances,  who  can  he  very  anima- 
ted? On  what  energy  can  attend  the  exercise  of  our  pro- 
fession in  the  eyes  of  a  world,  that  superciliously  appre- 
ciates the  characters  of  men  infinitely  more  by  their 
temporal  possessions,  than  by  the  graces  of  their  heart, 
or  the  sublimity  of  their  understanding.  To  a  person 
of  any  refinement  or  sensibility,  houses  without  conven- 
iences, and  children  without  provision,  are  but  a  mel- 
ancholy portion  !  If  merchants  or  lawyers  had  no  bet- 
ter prospects,  what  would  be  their  exertions  ?  And  yet 
under  all  this  heavy  load  of  embarrassment,  what  great 
and  good  men  do  our  annals  boast  ? 

Fanatics }  indeed,  alledge  that  pastors  should  be  supe- 
rior to  all  hopes  of  reward,  except  in  heaven.  Plato 
has  likewise  said  that  we  should  be  raised  above  the 
sense  of  pain.  But  neither  those  yi-icilCirics  nor  tnis 
fhibe '|?h«?r  h*YC  been  able  to  change  the  nature  of 
things ;  to  take  from  nerves,  their  sensibility  ;  from 
the  world,  its  insolence,  from  education,  its  delicacy,  o* 
from  poverty,  its  stings. 

And  we  have  learned  from  a  higher  authority,  than  4 
either  of  theirs,  that  a  the  christian  labourer    is   worthy 
of  his  hire,  and  that  he  who  serves  at  the  altar,  should 
live  of  the  altar." 


LETTER  XXXIX. 

Books  and  rules  of  all  kinds  are  the  theory  of  religion, 
and  can  have  no  further  use,  than  as  they  lead  to  prac- 
tice. We  have  then  profited  by  systems  and  opinions, 
when  our  life  is  a  con  inu^l  comment  on  what  we  have 
read,  and  we  make  the  light  of  our  example  shine  be- 
fore men. 

Christianity  has  but  two  capital  features ;  love  to 
God,  evinced  in  acts  of  piety  ;  and  good  will  towards 
man,  exemplified  in  all  the  possibilities  of  doing  good. 
As  devotion,  however  necessary,  can  bring  no  profit  to 
GLir  Maker,  any  more  than  a  little  taper  can  add  to  the 
splendors  of  the  sun,  the  scriptures  have  laid  the  great- 


LETTERS   TO    A   YOUNG    LADY.  7^ 

est  stress  on  chanty  to  our  felloxv  creatures.  This  is 
called  the  "  end  of  the  commandment :"  It  is  the  em- 
bodying of  our  piety;  and  the  world  could  not  subsist 
without  it.  Human  Lifejis  full  of  woe.  Charity  is  the  an- 
gel, that  binds  up  the  sor^  s  of  our  fellow  creatures,  heals 
the  broken  in  heart,  clodiea  the  naked  and  feeds  the 
hungry.  The  poor  are  made  the  representatives  of 
Christ;  whatever  we  give  to  them  is,  in  scripture  lan- 
guage, bestowed  on  the  Saviour.  Morth  and  rust  cor- 
rupt the  treasures  we  hoard  up,  but  this  is  placed  in 
those  funds  of  heaven,  which  never  fail. 

The  Saviour  has  said,  that  w  it  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive. "  And  the  pleasures,  which  spring 
from  charity,  prove  its  origin  to  be  divine.  What  val- 
ue has  a  heap  of  money,  or  what  conscious  dignity  do  we 
derive  from  it,  if  it  is  not  employed  in  giving  comfort  to 
the  miserable,  and  protection  to  the  distressed? 

The  very  poor  are  provided  for  by  the  laws  of  the 
kingdom.  And  common  beggars  are  far  from  being 
the  most  deserving  objects.  Charity  should  rather  seek 
out  the  modest  and  uncomplaining  who  have  seen  bet- 
ter days,  and  have  all  the  pains  of  a  delicate  sensibility, 
annexed  to  their  distress. 

True  charity  does  not  so  much  consist  in  multiply- 
ing little  alms  to  a  number  of  poor  people,  as  in  making 
some  grand  and  well  directed  efforts  in  favour  of  a  few. 
Educating  one  child  of  an  over-burthened  family  is  a 
greater  act  of  beneficence,  than  retailing  to  them  occa- 
sionally a  thousand  petty  benefactions.  It  is  not  a  few 
scattered  drops  of  rain,  but  it  is  a  generous  shower, 
coming  all  at  once,  which  revives  the  pearched  earth, 
and  quickens  vegetation. 

It  is  amazing  what  charities  even  a  small  fortune  will 
enable  people  to  perform,  if  under  the  influence  of  a 
christian  economy.  A  few  retrenchments  from  dress* 
vanity  or  pleasure,  poured  into  the  christian  stock,  will 
make  it  rich  indeed. 

I  do  not  know  a  better  practice,  than  that  of  the  pri- 
mitive christians— laying  by  on  the  first  day  of  the  week, 


72  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

a  little  pittance  for  this  purpose.  These  drops  will  not 
be  missed  from  the  general  reservior,  and  yet,  collect- 
ively, will  rain  a  shower  of  blessings  on  many  indigent 
and  distressed. 


LETTER  XL. 

YOLTNG  Indies  have  many  methods  of  charity  be- 
sides the  mere  act  of  giving  money.  That  time,  which 
sometimes  hangs  heavy  on  their  hands,  might  be  useful- 
ly employed  in  making  garments  for  the  naked,  or 
providing  cordials  for  the  sick.  Such  an  active  be- 
nevolence would  likewise  be  an  excellent  recipe  for 
their  health  and  spirits ;  it  would  dignify  their  char- 
acter, and,  when  the  last  moment  came,  gratitude 
would  "  shew  the  garments,  which  a  Dorcas  had 
made,"  and  the  good  name  "  they  had  acquired,  would 
be  infinitely  richer,  and  more  precious  than  ointment." 

If  I  wished  a  woman  to  be  universally  charming,  I 
would  recommend  this  expedient.  Compassion  is  the 
highest  excellence  of  your  sex,  and  charity  is  the  sacred 
root  from  which  it  springs.  The  soft  bosom  of  a  wo- 
man, throbbing  with  sympathy,  or  her  eye  glistening 
with  chrystal  drops  of  pity,  are  some  of  the  finest  touch- 
es in  nature's  pencil.  The  whole  train  of  accomplish- 
ments, the  whole  group  of  graces  do  not  exalt  her  half 
so  much  in  the  estimation  of  the  worthy,  the  amiable 
and  the  discerning.  Alas  !  when  death  comes  what 
will  be  all  the  accomplishments  and  graces  ?  But  chari- 
ty shall  never  fail ;  its  pleasures  then  are  gaining  their 
meridian  of  perfection.  Remember  what  the  scrip- 
tures has  said,  "  alms  giving  dt  live  Beth  from  death,  and 
will  not  suflei  us  to  come  into  darkness."  The  young 
lady  vou  have  so  frequently  heard  me  mention,  as  stand- 
ing high  in  my  esteem,  is  very  eminently  distinguished 
by  this  grace.  Nature  has  been  sufm-iently  kind  {o  her 
person  ;  but  it  is  not  her  sweet  complexion,  it  is  not  her 
flowing  unaitificial  ringlets,  it  is  not  the  softness  of  her 


LETTERS    T«    A    T©UN«    LA r>V. 

voice  and  manner,  or  the  mild  lustre  of  her  eyes,  rtfi't 
would  have  called  forth  a  panegyric  from  my  pfeir,  or 
touched  a  breast,  that  is  considerably  petrified  with  phi- 
losophy and  reflection.  It  is  a  conviction  tint  she  lives 
in  the  constant  exercise  of  piety  ;  trnt  her  excellencies 
r.re  chiefly  those  of  the  mind,  and  th*t  her  benevolence 
is  bounded  only  by  creation. 

When  others  are  at  plays  or  assemblies  her  ftiif 
hands  are  making  garments  for  the  naked,  or  restora- 
tives for  the  sick.  The  ingenuity,  which  some  of  her 
sister  females  employ  to  adorn  themselves,  is  consecra- 
ted by  her  to  the  service  of  the  poor. 

This  is  laying  up  in  store  againstfthe  day  of  nece  sity, 
This  is  weaving  for  her  a  chaplet  of  laurels,  that  shai; 
he  green  in  age.  Her  countenance  shall  smile  oven  in 
dissolution.  A  beauteous  ruin,  even  in  death  She  shall 
have  power  to  charm  :"  and  the  gratitude  of  some  ad- 
miring bard  shall  collect  her  scattered  merits  into  au 
urn  that  shall  long  secure  the  precious  relicts  from  the 
ravages  of  time. 

But  I  will  not  add  another  touch  to  the  portrait,  for 
fear  of  discovering  the  excellent  original.  I  should 
wound  that  soft  and  delicate  timidity,  which  is,  in  mv 
idea,  the  euamel  of  her  graces.  Her  true  merit  wishes 
to  be  unknown.  It  is  satisfied  with  its  own,  and  the 
approbation  of  its  God. 


LETTER  XLL 

ALMS,  however,  to  the  body,  which  must  very  soon 
perish,  are  but,  if  I  may  say  so,  the  threshold  of  charity. 
The  true  sublime  of  it  is  compassion  to  the  soul ;  be- 
cause  that  is  immortal,  and  can  never  die. 

Every  effort  to  save  this,  is  exalted  in  its  nature,  and 
the  nearest  approach  we  can  make,  in  these  houses  of 
clay;  to  the  ministry  of  angels,  to  the  attributes  of  Jeho- 
vah, and  to  the  unbounded  compassion  of  him,  who  di- 
ed for  the  sins  of  all. 

A  few,  timely  advices,  instructions  or  reproofs  to 
G 


7*  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

/ 

those,  over  whom  our  fortune  or  station  giv«  us  any  in- 
fluence,  may  have  more  lasting  and  brneficial  consequen- 
ces, than  all  the  food  or  raiment,  or  money  we  can  pos- 
sibly bestow  ;  at  least  when  we  give  our  temporal  things, 
rht  y  should  be  pei  fumed  wiih  spiritual,  u  *  ith  words 
thus  tf poker)  in  due  season." 

I  he  institution  of  Sunday  Stheols  promises  the  hap- 
piest consequences  to  the  poor,  and  die  community  at 
large.  Jt  has,  in-teed,  already  produced  a  surprising 
reformation.  The  present  age  beholds  the  dawn  of  h 
Blessed  morning,  which  in  another,  may  brighten  into  a 
more  perfect  day. 

If  it  fiils%  it  will  be  from  carelessness  and  indolence, 
ia  the  parents  themselves,  or  for  want  of  attention  from 
the  higher  orders  of  people.  Many,  who  will  give 
their  money,  are  not  equally  liberal  of  their  exertion — 
This  grand  scheme,  however,  requires  an  unremitting 
iaDour  and  vigilance.  It  is  the  watchful  eve  of  .super/- 
'ori  which  alone  will  produce  exemplariness  in  the  teach- 
ers, or  in  the  scholars,  emulation.  And  I  do  not  know 
a  greater  charity  within  the  sphere  of  a  young  lady, 
ban  to  visit  the  girls  in  these  useful  seminaries  ;  in  or- 
lep  to  correct  their  foibles,  encourage  their  dawning 
virtues  and  stimulate  them  to  improvement.  Close, 
uncomfortable  rooms,  it  is  true,  in  cellars  or  gamt*\ 
poisoned  with  unpleasant  smells,  and  but  filled  with 
poor  children,  are  no  very  inviting  objects  to  those,  who 
live  in  houses,  "  ceiled  with  cedar,  and  painted  with 
vermilion."  Hut  the  merit  of  the  action  is,  doubtless, 
in  proportion  to  its  unpleasantness  ;  and  it  is  done  for 
him,  who  on  our  account,  refused  neither  hardship  nor 
distress.  These  poor  children  he  has  vouchsafed  to 
call  "his  iambs,"  and  it  is  a  most  christian  effort  to 
"feed  them." 

Such  advice  will  doubtless,  sound  very  strange  in  the 
ears  of  some  young  ladies,  who  ihre  "  scarcely  set  their 
feet  upon  the  ground  for  delicateness  and  tenderness/' 
But  this,  alas!  is  a  false  and  overacted  refinement.-— 
They  were  not  born  merely  to   vegetate  like  tulips,  for 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  75 

ostentation.  The  world,  their  friends,  (he  poo:-,  reli- 
gion, havb-  claims  upon  them.  All  nature,  sun,  moon, 
stars,  tides,  preach  up  thi?  necessity  of  continual  action, 
and  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  this  kind  of  exertion 
would  be  recompensed  with  su.h  a  secret  pleasure,  a«i 
they  never  found  in  the  gayest  circles  of  fashion,  or  the 
most  crowded  haunts  of  dissipation. 

Another  excellent  mode  of  chuiiiv,  is  dispersing  lit- 
tle, religions  tracts  among  your  poor  neighbours.  These, 
with  the  blessing-  of  God,  may  have  a  wonderful  effect, 
and  indeed  be  doing  most  extensive  good,  when  you  are 
no  more.  Every  family  of  servants,  should  have  a 
small  christian  library;  the  benefits,  I  doubt  not,  would 
soon  be  felt  in  their  orderly  deportment. 

The  Society  for  promoting  christian  knowledge  a* 
bounds  with  a  variety  of  little,  plain,  useful  treatises, 
that  are  suited  to  all  occasions.  You  may  easily  pro- 
cure a  catalogue  of  the  whole,  and  select  such  as  are 
most  adapted  to  the  state  of  your  particular  dependants. 

On  the  whole,  my  dear  girl,  that  time  which  tarnish- 
eth  the  glory  of  all  human  things,  will  quickly  lay  both 
you  and  me  in  the  dust  of  the  earth.  Let  us  endeavour 
to  extend  this  little  span  by  amiable  actions,  smd>  if 
passible,  render  oar  memories  immortal* 

LETTER  XLII. 

MY    DEAR    IUCY, 

THE  very  first  thing  I  should  recommend  after  relw 
gious  duties,  as  absolutely  essential  to  your  private  com- 
fort, is  s?  If  government  in  the  fullest  of  the  word.  This 
may  be  supposed  to  be  included  under  the  article  of  re- 
ligion. And  so  in  fact  it  is.  But  there  are  many  well 
disposed  persons,  that  seem  to  think  Httle  things  of  this 
kind  almost  beneath  their  notice,  though  in  reality  they 
are  interwoven  with  the  repose  of  every  day,  and  al- 
most every  moment. 


16  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LAD* 

The  discipline  of  the  imagination  is  the  first  thing  to 
he  attempted.  This,  in  young  people,  is  naturally 
warm  ;  and  if  they  are  not  cautious,  will  be  apt  to  mis- 
lead them  into  very  dangerous  errors. 

Thus  whatever  captivates  their  fancy,  they  take  with- 
out examination,  to  be  all  over  excellence.  Tinsel,  be- 
cause it  glitters  more,  will  be  preferred  to  solid  gold  ;  a 
luxuriant,  florid  style  in  a  writer,  to  the  soundest  and 
best  arranged  arguments;  the  shewy  and  brilliant  in 
characters,  to  the  truly  valuable,  and  the  gaudy  in  dress, 
to  that  artless  simplicity,  which  is  the  offspring  of  an  el- 
egant and  well  cultivated  taste. 

Young  people  almost  universally,  subject  themf  elves 
to  this  kind  of  illusion.  They  enter  upon  life,  as  an  in- 
chanted  country.  The  world,  in  their  idea,  has  no  ca- 
price ;  fortune,  no  vicissitude  ;  friendship  is  without  in- 
sincerity;  attachment  without  bitters,  and  marriage  is 
•11  happiness  without  alloy.  What  the  scripture  has 
called  a  wilderness,  they  make  a  paradise,  wnese  land- 
scapes are  deliciously  picturesque,  and  whose  spring  is 
ever  green. 

Experience,  be  assured,  will  not  realize  such  high  ex- 
pectations. You  will  find,  that  every  object  has  its  im- 
perfections; that  the  world  at  best  is  but  a  mixture  of 
good  and  ill,  2nd  that  the  lights  of  the  picture  will  be 
inteispe^Sd  with  shades. 

YoeftwSll  ask,  where  is  the  great  harm  of  indulging, 
for  a  little  while,  these  high  colourings  of  fancy  ?  The 
inconvenience  is  obvious.  It  will  expose  you  to  perpet- 
ual disappointments,  and  disappointments  v>ill  create 
disgust.  By  such  a  false  sublimation,  you  will  have  no 
relish  for  the  rational  pleasures,  and  no  resolution  to  per- 
form the  solid  duties  of  your  condition.  At  any  rate, 
you  will  want  a  proper  share  of  fortitude  and  patience 
to  encounter  the. many  unavoidable  ill*  and  calamities  of 
life. 


^LTTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 


LETTER  XLIII, 


THE  next,  most  important  thing,  is  the  government 
of  your  temper.  I  know  many  persons,  that  would  not, 
for  the  world,  be  absent  from  the  sacrament,  or  refuse 
to  do  a  generous  action,  yet  indulge  themselves,  seem- 
ingly  without  remorse,  in  such  little  instances  of*  ill-na- 
ture, peevishness,  tyranny,  and  caprice  towards  their 
servants  and  inferiors,  as  render  their  houses  a  perpetu- 
al scene  of  discord,  and  hiiog,  on  every  countenance,  at: 
uncomfortable  gloom. 

Such  people  should  consider,  that  religion  was  in- 
tended to  regulate  the  most  ordinary  actions  of  ear 
lives  ;  that  prayers,  sacraments,  and  opportunities  of 
doing  grcw/good,  come,  comparatively,  but  seldom  ;  but 
that  it  is,  every  moment,  in  our  power  to  diffuse  happi- 
ness amongst  our  domestics,  and  that  this,  if  it  pro- 
ceeds from  proper  motives,  will  be  an  acceptable  service 
to  the  God,  who  has  appointed  all  the  different  ranks  in 
society,  and  is  the  father  of  all  compassion.  N<~>r  have 
we  much  imbibed  the  true  spirit  of  the  gospel,  if  it  has 
not  taught  us  to  bear  patiently  the  imperfections  of  our 
fellow-creatures,,  and  to  temper  authority  with  gentle- 
ness and  good  nature. 

No  consequence  can  justify  one  single  act  of 'caprice., 
sullenness  or  ill-humor.  It  is  a  direct  violation  of  that 
universal  law  of  charity,  which  requires  us,  in  all  our 
actions,  to  keep  in  view,  the  happiness  of  others,  as  well 
as  our  own. 

Tyranny  is. a  downright  insult  to  any  creature  form- 
ed in  the  image  of  God  ;  it  would  be  unpardonable,  if 
exercised  even  to  a  worm  or  insect,  and  generally  pro- 
ceeds from  causes,  which  reflect  no  honor  on  the  heart 
or  understanding.  It  is  often  the  result  of  a  nexv-born 
greatness,  that  has  not  yet  learned  hew  to  bear  superior- 
ity ;  of  a  spleen,  collected  from  want  of  employment, 
or  a  natural,  ill-temper,  that  never  has  submitted  to  th? 
discipline  of  virtue. 

G.  2. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG   LAW. 

Mildness  is  necessary  to  our  own  comfort.  They, 
who  are  continually  tormenting  others,  must  be  wretch- 
ed themselves.  It  is  essential  to  the  ditrnity  of  our  own 
character  ;  and  it  is,  I  am  sure,  the  highest  policy, 
whether  we  mean  to  secure  the  affections,  or  the  good 
services  of  o  ir  dependants. 

It  is  a  pitiful  condescension  in  a  woman  of  fortune  to 
aggravate  every  little  cause  of  complaint.  A  raffled, 
angry,  scolding  woman  Is  so  far  vulgar  and  disgusting, 
and  for  the  moment,  a  sort  of  virago. 

Moderation  is  the  great  secret  of  government.  To  be 
always  dissatisfied  is  the  way  to  lose  all  authority  and 
respect.  The  consequence  of  those  people  is  most 
cheerfully  acknowledged,  who  seem  the  least  forward 
to  assert  it. 

And  what  says  the  law  of  all  wisdom  and  of  all  per- 
fection ?  a  Masters,  give  unto  your  servants,  that  which 
is  just  and  equal,  knowing  that  ye  also  have  a  master  in 
heaven.  Put  on,  as'the  elect  of  God,  bowel*  of  mercies, 
kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  long  suffering,  forbearing 
one  another,  and  forgiving  one  another.  Learn  of  me, 
for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart.  Be  pitiful,  be  cour- 
teous." 

If  the  gospel  was  published  "  to  bring  peace  on  earth, 
and  good- will  towards  men,"  thi3  kind  afFection  should 
begin  with  families,  which,  collectively,  compose  all  the 
rations  of  the  world. 


LETTER  XLIV. 

THE  ptety,  I  have  recommended,  will  make  you  al- 
ways happy  la  yourself,  an  1  respected  by  all  the  wor- 
anJ  dVicernin^,  though  you  should  happen  to  have 
;io:ie  of  thoie  intell -dual  endowments,  which  procure  a 
greater  share  of  fame  and  admiration.  I5ut  you  may  be 
sensible  as  well  as  bioii* ;  you  may  b*  entertaining  as 
well  ai £«?:/.  Y)ir  reavja  and  understanding  were 
given  you  to  be  improved ;  a  proper  pursuit  of  knowl- 
edge, at  the  sam?  tiifl?,  will  ail  vv]  iofrtnv:your$e?fy, 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  79 

and  render  you  much  more  valuable  and  interesting  to 
all  your  acquaintance.  When  the  foundation  is  laid  in 
virtue,  the  superstructure  may  have  every  graceful  em- 
bellishment. 

Knowledge  will  recommend  you  to  miny,  over  whom 
mere  piety  would  have  no  power.  It  will  give  a  greater 
energy  to  your  goodness.  The  picture  will  be  thus  el- 
egantly framed,  and  placed  in  the  best  point  of  view. 

Learned  women,  however,  hnve  been  often  a  proverb 
of  reproach,  feared  by  their  own  sex,  and  disliked  by 
ours.  A  neglect  of  their  person,  and  of  familv  concerns, 
as  of  little  things  beneath  a  superior  understanding  ;  a 
vain  ostentation  of  their  abilities  in  company,  and  upon 
all  occasions,  a  supercilious  contempt  of  their  sister  wo- 
men in  general,  and  an  ungraceful  avidity  for  the  com- 
pany of  men,  have  been  reckoned  amongst  their  distin- 
guished characteristics. 

The  truth  is,  some  females  have  been  viragos  in  their 
knowledge,  not  only  injudicious  in   the  kind  they  have- 
aspired  to,  but  the  use  they  have  made  of  it,  and  an  itu. 
discriminate  stigma  has  been  fixed  upon  all,   who   have 
endeavored  rationally  to  improve  their  understandings. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is. said  of  women,  that  thev  are 
so  ignorant,  frivolous  and  insipid,  as  to  be  unfit  for 
friendship,  society  or  coversati  >n  ;  that  they  are  unable 
to  amuse,  entertain  or  edify  a  lonely  hour,  much  more 
to  bless  or  grace  that  connexion,  for  which  they  were 
principally  formed. 

What,  my  dear  girl,  can  a  judicious  woman  do,  in 
such  a  dilemma  ?  Mow  must  she  act  to  avoid  the  impu- 
tation of  pedantry  on  the  one  hand,  and  ignorance  on 
the  other. 

There  is  a  narrow,  middle  path  betwixt  these  ex- 
tremes. ^Judgment  must  point  it  out,  and  good  sense 
direct  you  in  the  execution. 

The  prominent  excellencies  of  your  minds  are  taste 
and  imagination,  and  your  knowledge  should  be  of  a 
kind,  whkh  assimilates  with  these  faculties.  Politic^ 
philosophy>  mathematics,  or  metaphysics  are  not  ijour 


CTfikS  TO   A  YOUNG  LAI>V. 

province.  Machiavel,  Newton,  Euclid,  Malehranche 
or  Lo_ke  would  lie  with  a  very  ill  grace  in  your  closets. 
They  wouid  render  you  wixvc manly  indeed.  They 
would  damp  that  vivacity  and  destroy  that  disengaged 
and  softness,  which  are  the  very  essence  or  you;- 
graces. 

The  elegant  studies  are,  more  immediately,  your  de- 
partment. They  do  not  require  so  much  time,  abstrac- 
tion or  comprehensiveness  of  mind  ;  they  bring  no 
wrinkles,  and  they  will  give  a  polish  to  your  man,'. 
and  such  a  liberal  expansion  to  your  understanding,  as 
every  rational  creature  .should  endeavor  to  attain. 

Whilst  men,  with  solid  judgment  and  a  superior  vig- 
our are  to  combine  ideas,  to  discriminate,  and  examine 
a  subject  to  the  bottom,  you  are  to  give  it  all  its  bril- 
liancy and  all  its  charms.  They  provide  the  furniture  ; 
you  dispose  it  with  propriety.  They  build  the  house  j 
ucu  are  to  fancy,  and  to  ornament  the  ceiling. 

Cultivate,  then,  such  studies,  as  lie  within  the  region 
of  sentiment  and  taste.  Let  your  knowledge  bcfiini- 
rune,  as  well  as  your  person.  And  let  it  glow  xvithin 
you,  rather  than  sparkle  upon  others  about  you.  A  dia- 
mond, so  polished,  will  always  be  valued.  You  will 
charm  all,  but  the  ignorant  and  vulgar.  You  will  be  a 
rational,  entertaining  companion,  and  the  symmetry  of 
your  features  will  derive  a  double  lustre  from  the  beau- 
lies  of  your  mind, 

LETTER  XLV. 

ENDEAVOR  to  acquire  a  taste  for  the  beauties  of 
fine  writing,  as  it  is  displayed  in  our  present,  numerous 
ii-,t  of  English  classics,  the  Spectators,  Tatlers,  the 
Guardian,  the  Kambler,  the  Adventurer,  the  World, 
&c.  I  have  placed  Addison  at  the  head,  of  this  cata- 
logue, because  he,  more  frequently  than  any  of  the  rest, 
gives  lessons  of  morality  and  prudence  to  your  sex,  and, 
ior  delicacy  of  sentiment,  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  female 
reading.     There  is  sometimes  perhaps,  a  languor  in  hk 


LETTERS   TO    A    YOUNG    LADY,  $1 

papers.  He  may  not  have  all  that  fire  and  energy  and 
pathos,  which  hare  since  characterised  some  celebrated 
writers  ;  but  lor  ease,  gracefulness,  simplicity  and  na- 
ture, he  is  absolutely  without  a  rival,  and,  perhaps,  ever 
will  be  without  a  superior.  A  critic*  of  modern  times 
has  said,  that  whoever  would  write  the  English  language 
with  ease  should  spend  his  days  and  nights  in  reading 
the  works  of  Addison. 

To  this  frequent  perusal  of  the  best  writers,  add,  if 
possible,  an  acquaintance  with  some  living  characters 
of  improved  education.  Conversation  with  people  of 
genius  and  sentiment  is  the  easiest  and  quickest  way  to 
improvement.  It  gives  us  all  its  graces,  without  its 
austerities  ;  its  depth,  without  its  wrinkles.  We  soon 
grow  languid  and  gloomy  with  abstracted  studies,  weary 
of  ourselves,  and-  sated  with  our  pursuits.  Conversa- 
tion gently  agitates  the  sedentary  frame,  and  gives  a 
brisker  motion  to  the  blood' and  spirits.  The  counte? 
nance  is  flushed  with  pleasure  ;  the  eyes  sparkle,,  the 
heart  expands  and  glows  with  emulation, 


LETTER  XLVF. 

TO  write  letters  well  is  a  very  desirable  excellence 
in  a  woman.  Every  situation,  character,  connexion  ; 
devotion,  friendship,  love,  business,  all  require  the  ex- 
ercise of  this  talent.-  It  is  an  office  particularly  suited 
to  the  liveliness  of  your  fancy,  and  the  sensibility  of 
your  heart  ;  and  your  sex,  in  general,  much  exc<  Is  our 
own,  in  the  ease  and  graces  of  epistolary  correspondence. 
Kot  cramped  with  the  shackles  and  formality  of  rules, 
their  thoughts  arc  expressed  spontaneously,  as  they  flow, 
and  become,  more  immediately,  (what  a  letter  always 
should  be.)  a  lively,  amusing,  written  conversation.  A 
man  a-ttends  to  the  niceties  of  grammar,  or  well  turner^ 
periods  ;  a  woman  gives  us  the  effusions  of  he*  soul. 
The  first  may  please  a  few,  languid   critics  ;  the  latter 

*  Dr.  Johnson. 


M  LETTtRS    VO     L    YOUKG    LADY. 

will  delight   every  person  of  sensibility   and   discern-* 
inent. 

I  had  once  the  Honor  of  corresponding  with  a  lady, 
whose  letters  astonished  me.  Imagery,  taste,  pathos, 
spirit,  tire  and  ease  vied  with  each  other,  which  should 
be  the  most  canxjidcuoua  feature  in  the  productions  of 
her  pen.  They  came,  no;  from  the  head ;  it  was 
heart,  which  wrote  them.  1  hey  were  not  faultless,  but 
they  were  impassioned.  They  had  defects,  bat  they 
had  likewise  beauties,  which  must  have  warmed  the 
coldest  critic,  that  ever  existed.  Thev  were  interest- 
ing to  an  high  degree,  and  left  this  conviction  strongly 
on  my  mind,  that  we  often  labor  only  to  be  dull,  and,  in 
the  search  of  distant  ornaments,  chili  the  natural  fer- 
vors of  the  soul. 


LETTER  XLVII. 

.  WITH  the  History  of  our  own  country  you  cannot 
decently  be  unacquainted.  Jt  would  betray  an  unpar- 
donable ignorance,  il  you  could  not  tell,  on  being  asked 
in  company,  the  general  character  of  all  the  sovereigns, 
that  have  sat  upon  the  British  throne;  what  were  the 
religion,  manners,  customs,  ceremonies  of  the  primitive 
inhabitants  of  the  island  ;  by  what  means  the  present 
state  of  civilization  has  been  gradually  introduced  ; 
what  contributed  to  bring  about  our  reformation  from 
the  church  of  Rome  ;  at  what  period  the  outline  pf  our 
happy  constitution  first  began  to  be  sketched  out,  and 
what  is  the  particular  excellence  of  our  government,  u- 
ver  all  others  m  the  known  world. 

Jf  indeed  you  consider  history  in  its  proper  light,  not 
as  a  mere  detail  of  names,  facts,  epochs,  and  events, 
but  as  a  picture  of  human  nature,  and  of  the  wonderful 
administration  of  Providence,  apportioning  rewards  and 
punishments  to  nations,  and  frequently  to  individuals, 
according  to  their  actions,  it  will  become  not  only  an 
entertaining  study,  but  a  source  of  the  sublimest,  moral 
improvement.     It  will,  give  you  the  richest  knowledge 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  9Q 

of  men  and  things  ;  from  what  has  happened,  you  may 
deduce  what  will,  in  similar  situations  ;  and  you  will 
]« am  to  adore  the  wisdom,  justice  nnd  perfections  of 
him,  who,  under  all  the  changes  of  time,  falls  of  em- 
pire, the  conflicts  of  passion,  and  the  interests  of  men, 
is  the  same  M  yesterclav,  to-day,  and  forever  ;"  carry- 
ing on,  amidst  all  apparent  disorder,  one  grand  and 
comprehensive  scheme  of  happiness  and  probation. 

Goldsmith  lias  agreeably  abridged  and  condensed  the 
English  history,  in  a  well  known  work  *  of  two  small 
rolumes,  intitled  Letters  from  a  Nobleman  to  his  Son. 
If  your  curiosity  is  excited  to  pursue  this  study  on  a 
larger  scale,  Henry  will  give  you  every  thing  that  de- 
lights in  genius,  language,  colouring  and  discription.* 

Hume  is  by  no  means,  an  impartial  historian,  but  he 
is  a  very  splendid,  captivating  writer.  If  he  is  not  dis- 
passionate, he  is  always  inchanting  ;  and,  if  he  does  not 
uniformly  convince,  he  never  fails  to  charm. 

It  had  been  happy  for  this  writer,  if  he  had  never  at- 
tempted any  thing  but  history.  He  might  then  have 
gone  to  his  grave  with  unequivocal  applause.  13ut  in 
his  moral  and  metaphysical  works,  he  is  an  enemy  to  the 
dearest  interests  of  mankind.  He  has  endeavored  to 
sap  the  foundations  of  that  religion,  which  is  the  only 
source  of  every  hope  and  every  comfort.  His  cold  and 
sullen  scepticism  has  done  infinite  mischief.  It  more 
than  sullies  all  the  lustre  of  his  literary  fame. 


LETTER  XLVIII. 

ROBERTSON'S  History  of  Charles  the  fifth,  and 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scotts,  will  both  instruct  and  enter- 
thin  vou.  The  historiographer  has  been  esteemed  an 
excellent  writer.  But  I  have  always,  in  private,  thought 

•  ■*  "  Dr.  Henry's  History  of  Great    Britain  contains 
more  good  matter  than  any  history  we  yet  have." 

Analytical  Review,  Number  iii. 
For  July,  1TB?,  p.  '*9T. 


^4  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

his  style  too  labored  and  stately.  It  has  not  the  ea*e 
and  simplicity  of  the  ancients.  It  does  not  equal  sev- 
eral of  the  moderns.  It  has  neither  the  concise  energy 
of  Hume,  nor  the  more  flowing  and  easy  graces  of  Gib* 
bon. 

The  late  Dr.  Stewart,  in  a  very  elegant  work,  has 
controverted  almost  all  the  assertions  of  his  predeces- 
sor,concerning  Mary,  and  bee  ome  the  champion  of  this 
unfortunate  queen.  But  you  have  nothing  to  do  with 
literary  controversy.  Leave  thtwn  to  the  tribunal  of  an 
impartial  public.  Time  will  weigh  their  separate  merits 
in  the  balance  of  truth.  Either  or  both  of  thtn  will 
exercise  your  taste,  and  improve  your  understanding. 

Stretcht's  Beauties  of  History*  will  furnish  you  with 
many  short,  agreeable  anecdotes,  both  ancient  and  mod- 
ern, at  a  verv  small  expence  of  time  and  trcuble. — 
Knowledge  thus  epitomized,  is  what  I  should  recom- 
mend. On  such  subjects,  you  want  short  and  pithy 
sketches,  rather  than  laboured  and  prolix    dissertations. 

The  history  of  Greece  and  Rome  is  so  frequently  al- 
luded to,  so  connected  with  that  of  almost  all  other  na- 
tions, and  so  full  of  curious  incidents  and  anecdotes, 
that  a  little  knowledge  of  it  would  be  very  useful  and 
entertaining.  But,  in  general,  the  writers  on  the  sub- 
ject, are  too  voluminous  for  a  female.  They  make  Dp 
no  little  share  of  the  labour,  in  a  classical  education. — 
Goldsmith  has  likewise  given  his  assistance  to  epitom- 
ize this  branch  of  history.  I  know  no  other  writer  so 
proper  for  your  purpose. 

To  attain  just  a  glimpse  of  general  history,  the  most 
useful  work  I  recollect,  is  the  Abbe  Millot's  Eh'mentex 
fur  I' 'Histoirt'.  On  fm  comprehensive  and  condensed 
plan,  there  is  much  in  a  little  compass.  By  travelling 
over  a  few  fields,  you  gain  a  most  immense  and  extend- 
ed horizon,  and  many  tracts  of  hitherto  undiscovered 
country.     History  at  large  is  so  voluminous  and  com- 

*  A  new  edition  of  which  has  been  lately  published 
in  two  vol  timet. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  85 

plicated j  that,  to  a  young  hdy,  who  shoull  understand, 
as  it  were,  but  the  outline,  it  very  much  wants  such  a 
mode  of  abridgment,  and  simplification. 


LF.TTER  XLIX. 

MY    D5AR    LUCY, 

ROLLLVs  ancient  history  is  a  treasure  to  young 
people,  if  the  number  of  volumes  docs  not  alarm  you. 
This  man  was  one  of  the  most  excellent  preceptors  that 
the  worl.l  ever  saw.  It  was  his  ambition  to  unite  the 
scholar,  and  the  christian.  He  labours  to  promote  re- 
ligions improvement,  by  every  incident  he  relates.  He 
holds  forth  Providence,  ,as  continually  superintending 
the  government  of  the  universe,  and  its  finger,  as  di- 
leciing  all  the  movements  of  the  system  ;  and,  when 
he  has  related  a  number  of  surprising  vicissitudes  and 
(vents,  he  takes  his  pupil  up  tv  to  an  high  mountain, 
whence  he  shows  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
and  all  the  glories  of  them''  to  be  continually  under  the 
controul  and  direction  of  heaven;  and  not  collecuvcly  to 
possess  half  the  lustre  of  the  excellence  of  one,  pious 
disposition. 

Under  the  pen  of  this  most  christian  writer,  every 
baser  metal  is  purified  from  its  alloy.  Every  sounding 
action  is  divested  of  its  bombast,  and  traced  to  its  real 
source.  Splendor  has  no  dignity,  if  unassoeiated.  wit'r 
virtue.  Ambition  is  painted  as  a  fury,  that  destroys. 
Heroism  is  represented  as  murder  in  disgoise.  The 
laurels  of  an  Alexander  are  wrested  from  his  brow. — 
Ca?sar  is  stripped  of  his  fictitious  plumage.  Theyiire 
both  described,  as  vultures,  preying  on  their  species, 
who  were  born  to  be  only  the  scourges  of  humanity,  and 
a  terror  to  the  world. 

'ibis  man  deserves  universal  veneration.  His  pupils 
should  have  raised  a  monument,  to  his  memory,  and 
posterity  have  rendered  that  monument,  immortal, — 
Learning  and  religion  should  be  grouped  over  his 
tomb,  mingling  their  united  tears  for  the  loss  of  his  vir- 
tues. H 


86  LITTERS  TO  A  YOUNG   LADY. 

If  you  hu-2  not  leisure  to  peruse  his  writing!!,'  yet  be 
careful  to  read  all  other  history  with  this  view,  and  it 
will  lead  \  on  to  God.  It  will  teach  you  no  longer  to  be 
dazzled  with  grandeur,  because  grandeur  fades  away. 
It  will  shew  you,  that  vices  have  demolished  the  mighti- 
est empires,  and  swept  the  finest  cities  u  with  the  besom 
o!  destruction;'  It  will  convince  you,  that  every  thing 
on  earth  is  a  shadow,  and  that  neither  men  nor  nations 
1  continue  in  one  stay."  It  will  assure  you,  that, 
14  though  clouds  and  darkness  may  be  about  the  throne 
of  God,  yet  righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  habita* 
tion  of  his  seat.  It  will  instruct  you,  that  every  action 
is  u  weighed  in  its  balance  ;"  that  however  seemingly; 
disregarded  for  a  time,  vice  and  virtue  will  have  their 
just  proportion  of  punishment  or  reward,  and  that  no- 
thing but  rejfgion  will  be  able  to  triumph,  amidst  the 
crush  of  elements,  of  matter,  and  the  world. 


LETTER  L. 

MY  DEAR    LUCY, 

THOUGH  I  think  erery  woman  in  the  world  should 
execrate  the  memory  of  the  late  Lord  Chesterfield,  as 
having  written  the  most  scandalous  libels  on  her  sex, 
yet  his  sketches  of  heathen  mythology,  of  Grecian,  Ro- 
man, anil  British  history,  in  the  first  volume  of  his  let- 
ters, are  well  worth  your  attention.  If  this  ingenious 
nobleman  had  given  us  more  specimens  of  this  nature, 
and  fewer  lectures  on  the  graces  and  intrigue,  the  grati- 
tude of  posteiity  would  have  embalmed  his  ashes.  He 
was  certainly  possessed  of  an  elegant  style,  and  had  a 
very  happy  method  of  conveying  his  instructions. 

But  in  order  to  make  any  real  improvement  in  this, 
or  any  other  of  your  studies,  let  me  advise  you  to  read 
only  one  half  hour,  at  a  time,  and  to  employ  a  double 
«pace,  in  abridging  and  expressing  what  you  recollect, 
in  your  tftvn  language.  This  will  have  the  double  ad- 
vantage of  impressing  it  very  strongly  on  your  memo- 
ry, and  enabling  you  to  form  a  style  of  your  cwn. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  87 

Though  a  good  style  is,  doubtless,  a  mark  of  genius, 
and  not  attainable  by  every  person,  yet  it  depends  amaz- 
ingly on  mechanical  habit,  as  well  as  our  gait,  counten- 
ance and  gesture.  The  pen  accustomed  to  a  certain 
routine  of  period,  performs  it  as  insensibly,  as  the 
memory  retraces  all  th^  variations  of  notes  in  a  song, 
whilst,  perhaps,  we  are  silently,  occupied  with  some 
other  object. 

Be  so  kind  as  to  indulge  me  with  a  sig'u  of  these 
sheets  exactly  as  they  are  penned  from  your  first  im- 
pressions, and  I  will  endeavor  to  correct  them,  Banish 
the  childkh  fear  of  betraying  any  ignorance,  where  I 
cannot  expect  you  to  be  informed  ;  and,  if  some,  essen- 
tial alterations  should  be  made,  remember  it  is  the  pen 
of  friendship,  which  erases,  guided  by  that  affection, 
with  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Your  ever  faithful 
and  affectionate. 


LETTER  IT. 

THAT  species  of  history,  which  describes  the  lives 
and  characters  of  particular  persons,  and  is  included  un- 
der the  name  of  biography,  is  by  far  the  mQst  useful 
and  interesting  to  a  Woman.  Instead  of  wars,  sieges, 
victories  or  great  achievements,  which  are  not  so  much 
within  the  province  of  a  female,  it  presents  those  domes- 
tic anecdotes  and  events,  which  come  more  forcibly 
home  to  her  bosom  and  her  curiosity. 

I  have  always  thought  that  one  great  advantage  of 
boys  over  girls,  ii  their  having  the  most  illustrious  char- 
acters of  antiquity  to  form  their  sentiments,  and  fire 
their  emulation.  Biography  will  open  to  you  the  same 
source  of  improvement.  You  read  of  persons,  elevated 
with  every  noble  sentiment  and  virtue  ;  and  your  judg- 
ment and  taste  will  select  some  particular  favorke  from 
the  group,  as  a  model  for  your  imitation. 

Though  Johnson  has  been  so  very  much  celebrated 
in  the  republic  oJTetters  for  all  his  productions,  yet  I 


88     v  LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY. 

have  always  thought  his  Lives  of  the  Po^ts  by  far  hi, 
most  agreeable  performance.  It  has  not  that  turgil 
pomposity  of  style,  which  appears  in  some  of  his  more 
juvenile  labors  ;  it  is,  all  along,  interspersed  with  judi- 
cious sentiments  anil  moral  refactions  ;  it  abounds  with 
in  orjginjaj  vein  of  criticism,  and  anecdotes  of  so  many 
illustrious  men,  as  cannot  fail  to  amuse,  as  well  as  to  in- 
struct. His  criticisms,  it  is  true,  have  been  controvert- 
ed, and  traduced  ;  but  what  writings  of  merit  are  ex- 
empt from  such  a  tax  ?   The   enthusiastic   admirers    of 

.:ton,  in  particular,  have  handled  him  with  severity. 
But  who  does  not  know  that  favorites,  at  any  rate,  will 
be  defended  ? 

But  indeed  all  men  of  sense  unite  in  paying  a  sincere 
respect  to  the  memory  of  Johnson.  In  spite  of  all  his 
petty  and  ungenerous  biographers,  the  sneers  of  party 
malice,  or  the  still  sharper  arrows  of  insidious  friends, 
he  stands  an  huge  collossus,  in  the  bosom  of  an  ocean, 
unmoved  with  the  angry  dashing  of  its  waves. 

Johnson,  in  all  his  multiplied  productions,  has  not  a 

gle  period,  that  can  patronize  indecency  cr  unhinge 
belief.  Andj  though,  now,  it  signifies  but  little  to  this 
extraordinary  man,  that  he  was  considered  as  an  oracle 
of  knowledge  in  his  days,  as  an  ornament  to  his  coun- 
try, and  a  blessing  to  the  world,  it  must  transport  him 

r  collect,  that  he  has  carefully  endeavored  to  diffuse 
happiness,  as  widely  as  his  writings,  and  to  render  pie- 
ty diffusive  ns  his  fame.  The  death  of  the  author  will 
exempt  me  from  suspicions  of  flattery  or  design  in  this 
little  panegyric7.  Gratitude  may  be  allowed  to  offer, 
without  any  censure,  this  little  incense  to  his  venerable 
shade. 

If  all  the  private  anecdotes  of  every  person's  life  and 
temper  must  be  arraigned  before  the  tribunal  of  the  pub- 
lic, who  could  escape  ?  If  Johnson  was  unaccommodat- 
ing, rough  and  morose,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  these 
were  but  little  pimples  on  a  skin,  where  the  heart  glow- 
ed with  universal  benevolence  ;  let  it  be  considered, 
that  conflicts,  disappointments  and   misfortunes  are  un- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG   LADY  89 

fjiendly  to  sweetness  of  manners  or  cl ijr j^ot ition  ;  that 
severe  application  has  a  tendency  to  rtndtr  an)'  man  ir- 
jitable  and  peevish  ;  that  gaiety  and  sprightliness  con- 
siderably arise  from  an  ease  of  circumstances  ;  and  It 
us  oppose  to  these  a  piety,  that  was  profound  and 
warm,  almost  to  superstition,  and  unwearied  labors  for 
the  service  of  mankind,  which  scarcely  knew  a  mo- 
ment's interruption. 

letter  lii. 

SUL'LY's  Memoirs,  in  five  volumes  are  interspersed 
with  very  curious  and  interesting  anecdotes  ;  and  the 
private  life  of  Louis  XV,  is  a  very  entertaining  work. 
Indeed  the  Trench  particularly  shine  in  biographical 
writing.  It  is  quite  in  their  province,  and  forms  a  part 
of  the  national  taste.  Their  imagination  sparkles,  in 
an  especial  manner,  in  painting  the  complexion  of 
courts,  monarchs  or  personages  of  distinction.  They 
feel  as  great  an  ardour  for  extolling  the  virtues  of  their 
k  vol  and  his  attendants,  as  we  do  for  recording  all  the 
great  achievements  of  the  field  or  ocean. 

The  Marquis  Carraccioli  is  universally  known,  as  an 
author  of  great  vivacity  and  talents.  He  has  written 
the  Life  of  Pope  Clement  XIV,  and  it  does  honor  to 
his  pen,  as  well  as  to  the  memory  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff. 

If  the  Marquis  really  wrote  the  fetters,  which  go  un- 
der the  name  of  Ganganelli,  he  has  hit  off  vviih  a  won- 
derful address,  the  ear  and  features  of  the  illustrious 
original.  The  habits,  sentiments,  maimers  and  dispo- 
sition of  the  Pope,  as  couched  in  this  life,  all  breathe 
through  these  letters. 

The  name  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  the  intimacy  known 
to  have  subsisted  betwixt  the  (Parties, have  given  a  great 
currency  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's  anecdotes,  relating  to  this 
literary  hero.  But  they  have  not  immortalized  either 
her  talents,  or  the  goodness  of  her  heart.  They  are  a 
most  disgusting  specimen  of  treachery  in  friendship  j  a 
II  2 


90  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

copious  effusion  of  spleen,  that  had  long  been  collecting. 
They  remind  one  forcibly  of  a  number  of  littls  insects, 
nibbling  at  their  ease,  on  the  carcase  of  some  noble  ani- 
mal, that  a  single  motion  of  the  living  creature  would 
have  dispersed  in  an  instant,  or  crushed  into  atoms. 


LETTER  JLIII. 

WRAX  ALL  is  a  very  agreeable  author,  and  he  has 
chosen  a  fruitful  subject,  in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Kings 
of  France,  of  the  House  of  Valols.  The  execution  is 
not  inferior  to  the  judiciousness  of  the  design.  His 
book  has  an  admirer  in  every  person  of  sentiment^  and 
taste. 

The  late  Mr.  Sheridan  is  allowed  to  have  possessed 
considerable  abilities.  He  has  given  the  world  a  spe- 
cimen of  them  in  his  life  of  Swift.  It  is,  however,  in 
my  idea,  too  flattering  a  portrait.  The  painter  was  a 
countryman,  and  an  admirer.  No  talents  can  convert 
deformity  into  beauty,  or  make  darkness  to  be  light. 

Swift  was  a  very  great,  original  genius  ;  but  the  in- 
decency of  some  of  his  writings  is  intolerable  ;  h'.s 
spleen,  excessive,  and  his  behavior  to  Stella,  an  eternal 
is  tig  ma  on  his  memory  and  his  virtues.  Ever  dabbling 
in  the  turbid  ocean  of  politics,  what  business  had  he 
witJf  the  quiet  and  retired  haven  of  the  church?  But 
genius  and  talents  can  embellish  any  side  of  a  subject, 
and  the  biographer  has  poured  on  his  favorite  author,  a 
deluge  of  panegyric. 

The  life  of  Garrick  is  so  much  interspersed  with  the 
domestic  history,  and  the  most  illustrious  persons  of  his 
time,  that  will  highly  engage  and  gratify  your  curiosity. 
L  is  written  by  Davies  in  two  volumes. 

England  has  long  laboured  with  a  disorder,  that  I  can- 
not call  by  a  better  name,  than  the  t/ieat rical  mania.  A 
principal  actor  is  more  distinguished,  caressed  and  en- 
riched by  a  luxurious  nation,  than  many  of  the  most  de- 
serving persons,  in  the  learned  profession.  An  Abing- 
don, a  Sid  Ions,  and  a  Mara,  (as  once  a  Garrick,a  Hen- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  9 1 

derson,  and  a  Yates)  inchant  the  feelings  of  a  British 
audience,  drain  the  money  which  should  be  sacred  to 
better  purposes,  acquire,  in  a  few  years,  an  independ- 
ent fortune,  and  are  admitted  to  the  first  circles  in  the 
kingdom,  whilst  a  thousand,  amiable  and  meritorious 
clergymen  are  suffered  to  live  in  want,  and  to  die  in  the 
most  uncomfortable  obscurity.  This  is  not  a  very  fa- 
vorable trait  in  the  moral  history  of  a  nation.  It  seems 
rather  a  symptom  of  its  approaching  dissolution. 

Hume  was  a  great  chainpijn  of  infidelity,  and  as  such, 
a  character,  that  excites  uncommon  curiosity.  He  has 
written  his  own  life,  and,  as  an  unique  in  biography,  it 
is  worthy  your  reading. 

Bolingbroke  was  another  of  the  sceptical  family.  His 
history  is  agreeably  recorded  by  Dr.  Goldsmith. 

On  the  subject  of  biography,  you  will  meet  with  a 
great  variety  of  other,  entertaining  writers  ;  but  I 
must  not  close  this  article,  without  particularly  recom- 
mending a  book,  that  has  given  me  so  much  pleasure 
and  information,  as  the  life  and  writings  of  Gray,  by 
Mr.  Mason. 

A  particular  friendship  of  the  warmest  and  most  dis- 
interested kind,  subsisted  betwixt  these  celebrated  au- 
thors. It  commenced  in  that  early  period  of  life,  when 
souls  are  jneap  ible  of  guile  or  selfishness,  and  mutually 
expand ;  and  Mason  has  endeavored  to  immortalize  it 
in  a  manner,  which  does  equal  credit  to  his  heart  and 
understanding. 

The  history  of  a  retired,  literary  person  cannot  gen- 
erally, present  much  variety  of  entertainment.  But  in 
the  character  of  Gray,  there  is  somewhat  very  interc  t- 
ing  ;  and  his  friend  has  displayed  it  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage. No  man,  perhaps,  by  such  slight  sketches,  as 
the  author  of  an  Elegy  in  a  country  church-yard  has  left 
behind  him,  ever  acquired  so  extensive  a  reputation. 
And  there  was  a  dignity,  a  softness  and  a  delicacy  in 
his  whole  manner  of  thinking  and  acting,  which  com- 
pensate for  the  want  of  more  remarkable  anecdotes,  and 
of  more  sounding  connexions. 


'.'2  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 


LKT'IKR  L1V. 

PEu\R     1UCY, 

M  THE  UK  is  not  (says  a  sensible  Writer,)  a  son  or 
daughter  of  Adam,  v.  ho  h.ts  not  some  concern  in  the 
knowledge  of  Geography."  It  is  necessary  to  \  our  en* 
derstanding  the  connexion,  which  this  globe  has  with 
the. other  planetary  system,  and  with  all  the  wonderful 
works  of  God.  It  is  indispeosible  to  your  comprehend- 
ing history,  or  having  a  proper  idea  of  the  events  and 
transactions  it  relates,  as  well  as  to  divest  your  mind  of 
little,  narrow  prejudices,  by  giving  you  a  view  of  the 
customs,  manners,  ceremonies  and  institutions  of  all  the 
different  nations  over  the  world. 

A  celebrated  writer  *  has  called  geography  and 
chronology,  the  two  eyea  ol  history  ;  the  first  informs 
you  where  events  happened,  and  the  latter,  at  what  par- 
ticular period ;  if  it  was  not  for  these  helps,  your  read- 
ing would  be  a  confused  chaos,  wiihout  order,  light  or 
perspicuity. 

Geography  is,  indeed,  so  much  attended  to  at  ali^ 
schools,  that  there  is  little  occasion  to  dwell  on  its  ne- 
cessity ;  if  you  have  learned  the  use  ^f  the  globes,  and 
the  division  of  it  by  names,  which  are  only  fancied Tor 
the  sake  of  reducing  the  immensity  of  it  to  the  narrow 
scale  of  human  comprehension,  the  best  method,  I  know, 
is  never  to  read  the  name  of  a  place  in  a  common  news 
paper,  or  any  other  history,  without  immediately,  recur- 
ling  to  authorities  for  the  situation  and  division  of  the 
country  in  which  it  lies,  the  manners  of  the  inhabitants, 
their  ceremonies,  civil  government,  and  religious  insti- 
tutions. It  is  this  mode  of  studying  from  the  urgency 
of  the  occasion,  which  gives  energy  to  our  researches 
and  vigor  to  improvement. 

Guthrie  is  one  of  the  best  authors  in  geography  ;  and 
for  chronology,  the  tables  of  1)/.  Pi  lastly  (a  name,  which 

*  Lord  Chesterfield. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  03 

I  would  only  mention,  where  science  and  not  religion,  is 
concerned,)  are  so  compendious  and  comprehensive,  as 
to  afford  you,  on  a  single  glance,  considerable  informa- 
tion. There  is  no  species  of  knowledge,  that  is  so  easi- 
ly attained,  as  that  of  geography  ;  nor  any  of  which  the 
want  is  more  flagrant  and  awkward. 

I  lately  blushed  for  a  young  lady,  who  was  aslcec)  in 
company,  the  latitude  and  situation  of  a  particular  place, 
which  happened  to  be  mentioned  in  the  pdblic  papers 
of  the  day.  She  was  dressed  in  the  highest  taste.  The 
roses  and  carnations  vied  in  her  countenance.  She 
piques  herself  on  her  smartness  and  vivacity  ;  but  in 
this  instance,  could  make  no  reply,  her  embarrassment 
betrayed  her  ignorance,  and  politeness  relieved  it  by  a 
change  of  conversation. 

How  much  higher  would  her  character  have  stood  in 
the  estimation  of  all  sensible  and  discerning  men,  if  she 
had  come  down  stairs  dressed  in  an  elegant  plainness, 
and,  instead  of  standing  so  long  before  her  glass,  had 
devoted  some  little  share  of  her  time  to  this  species  of 
improvement.  Not  that  I  have  any  objection  to  a  blush 
upon  a  woman's  cheek.  I  think  the  crimson  tint  orna- 
mental ;  but  I  would  have  yours  to  be  the  blush  of 
iklicacij  and  reserve,  not  of  ignorance ,  shyness  or  ill- 
breeding. 


LE1TER  LV. 

MY    DEAR    LUCY, 

NATURAL  History  is  another  study,  whioh  I  con- 
ceive to  be  particularly  feminine.  It  has  of  lafe,  been 
cultivated  with  uncommon  attention.  Botany  has  been, 
particularly,  fashionable.  It  has  found  a  place  in  the 
amusements'  of  the  elegant,  as  well  as  the  learned.  No- 
thing is  more  calculated  to  amuse  the  mind,  improve 
the  health  and  spirits,  and  to  inspire  at  once  cheerful- 
ness and  devotion. 

The  surprising  history  of  plants  and  flowers,  the  im- 
mense variety,  the  mechanism,  order,  government  and 


94  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

economy  of  anirmls,  fowls  with  their  plumage,  and  fish- 
es  with  their  scales,  fossils,  minerals,  petrifactions, 
mountains,  vallies,  vclcanos,  all  nature  fall  of  life,  full 
of  happiness  and  full  of  miracles,  will  crowd  your  mind 
with  the  sublimest  image*,  and  teach  you  to  adore  the 
great,  almighty  former  and  preserver  of  the  world. 
What  beauty  in  each  flower  !  What  traits  of  divine 
wisdom  and  goodness  in  an  insect  !  Surveyed  v,  ith  a 
truly  philosophical  eve,  the  whole  creation  is  a  temple  ! 
Not  a  shrub,  but  is  eloquent,  not  an  animalcule,  but  is 
a  powerful  monitor  of  virtue  ! 

I  never  spend  an  afternoon  wich  Miss  Louisa  — , 
without  being  both  instructed  and  delighted.  I  never 
take  a  walk  with  her  in  the  garden,  but  she  unfolds  a 
thousand,  natural  curiosities,  which  had  hitherto  escap- 
ed my  unscienced  or  inattentive  eyes.  1  never  ramble 
with  her  into  the  fields,  but  she  gives  me  such  an  his- 
tory of  the  most  common  plants  and  flowers,  as  at  once 
RBrprisen  ™y  PVW^Jfi  qn^  gratifies  my  taste.  In  her 
closet  she  has  a  large  Collection  01  insects,  which  hot* 
itticrofeccpe  clothes  with  most  exquisite  beauty,  and.  a, 
museum,' filled  with  shells,  corals,  and  petrifactions,  the 
sparkling  of  which  is  exceeded  by  nothing,  but  the  vi- 
vacity of  her  eyes,  or  the  stronger  or  more  permanent 
lustre  of  her  virtues. 

I  would  infinitely  rather  have  hertasj.e,  than  her  for- 
tune. And  I  never  quit  her  without  secretly  envying 
her  enjoyments.  She  is  ever  springtly,  because  she  has 
never  a  moment  unemployed*  She  always  smiles,  be- 
cause she  is  always  innocent.  Her  pleasures  are  ot  the 
rational  and  refined  kind.  They  never  leave  a  thorn 
in  the  heart  or  pluck  one,  blushing  rose  from  her 
cheeks.  How  solid  and  how  calm,  if  compared  with 
the  midnight  revels  of  fashion,  or  the  giddiness  of  ad- 
miration ! 

Be  like  Louisa,  my  dear  girl,  and  you  will  always  be 
happy.  Study  nature,  till  it  leads  you  up  to  nature's 
j  ,'>:!.     Pore  on  plants  and  flowers,  till  they  perfume 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  05 

you  with  a  real  devotion  ;  and  I  wi'l  engage  yon  to  be- 
come, in  your  turn,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers  in 
the  creation. 


LETTER  LVL 

NATURAL  History  is  divided  into  three  grand 
parts,  as  it  respects  the  animal,  the  mineral,  and  the 
vegetable  Kingdoms,  and  under  these  different  articles, 
assumes  the  name  of  zoology,  or  an  history  of  animals  ; 
lithology,  or  a  description  of  stones,  fossils,  &c.  and  bo- 
tany, or  an  account  of  herbs,  plants,  flowers.  These 
again  have,  each,  their  respective  subdivisions. 

Linnaeus,  who  was  born  at  Upsal,  is  the  great  father 
of  this  science,  and  from  the  Sweedish  schools  have  is- 
sued the  works  of  the  most  eminent  masters.  But  he 
is  too  voluminous  and  scientific  for  a  female,  who  wants 
only  a  general  knowledge  of  nature,  and  not  to  penetrate 
the  minutiae  of  her  plan. 

The  Amamitates  Academical  are  a  number  of  ingen- 
ious essays  on  a  vaiiety  of  subjects,  selected  from  the 
works  of  the  most  capital  disciples  of  the  Linnsean 
school.  Some  of  these  have  been  translated  by  Stilling- 
fleet,  under  the  name  of  Tracts  on  Natural  History,  and 
are  very  valuable  and  instructive-;  others  by  Brand,  in 
two  volumes,  which  contain  a  number  of  very  curious 
and  entertaining  descriptions. 

Pulteney's  View  of  the  Works  of  Linnaeus  you  may 
read,  likewise  with  great  pleasure  and  improvement. 
Next  to  these  I  should  recommend  to  a  mere  English 
reader,  the  works  of  Ray  ;  him,  who  wrote  "  The  wis- 
dom of  God  in  the  creation."  They  are  highly  useful 
and  valuable,  though  written  before  this  study  had  ar- 
rived to  its  present  state  of  perfection. 

Goldsmith's  History  of  the  Earth  and  Animated  Na- 
ture is  but  a  mere  compilation.  Still  it  m^iy  have  its 
use,  as  affording  some  colhtteral  lights  and  instructions. 

Buffon  is  an  author  of  first  rate  abilities.  His  stvle 
is  splendid  j  his   knowled-ge  is  extensive,  and  his  elo- 


06  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY* 

:nce,  in  a  high  degree,  brilliant  and  seducing.  But 
I  cannot  recommend  him  for  many  reasons.  He  is  too 
voluminous  ;  the  extensiveness  of  his  plan  leads  him 
into  a  great  variety  of  detail,  and  of  indelicate  descrip- 
tions. He  is  more  attached  to  systems  of  his  own,  thin 
the  discovery  of  truth  ;  and  he  is  a  sort  of  sceptic,  who 
resolves  every  thing  into  a  chain  of  secondary  causes, 
and  sacrilegiously  excludes  the  Deity  from  his  creation. 
This  temper  is  the  bane  of  modern  philosophers.  Thev 
endeavor  to  account  for  every  thing  upon  natural  prin- 
ciples, and  wherever  they  are  puzzled,  ridiculouslv  dis- 
believe. Instead  of  making  their  know  -ledge,  a  scaffold- 
ing to  God,  they  build  on  it,  a  monument  to  their  own 
vanity  and  folly,  which  will  not  stand,  c:  when  \vind3 
and  storms  arise."  Do  people  of  such  distinguished  a- 
bilities  need  to  be  reminded,  that  a  world  without  de- 
signer an  active  machine,  without  a  J*r&t,  moving 
principle,  involves  the  greatest  and  most  palpable  of 
contradictions  ?  Nature,  in  the  hands  of  a  true  philoso- 
pher reads  a  continued  lesson  of  piety  ;  in  those  of  a 
false,  one,  it  is  the  parent  of  scepticism,  gloom  and  des- 
pair. Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  the  most  pious  of  men  ; 
many  of  his  humble  followers  have  been  as  impious  re- 
tailers of  infidelity. 

You  will  derive  great  pleasure  and  improvement  from 
all  the  writings  of  Mr.  Pennant,  and  they  are  numerous. 
Always  lively  and  always  authentic,  they  entertain  the 
man  of  taste,  the  scholar,  and  the  antiquarian,  as  well 
as  the  naturalist.  Few  persons  have  published  so 
much,  in  any  one  department  cf  science,  with  so  great 
success. 

The  Flora  Londinensis  cf  Curtis  is  a  splendid  work, 
that  does  credit  to  the  author.  It  is  embellished  with 
beautiful  engravings  of  all  the  common  plants  and  flow- 
ers  of  this  country,  and  is  still  in  continuation. 

Volcanos  are  amongst  the  prodigies  cf  nature,  which 
fill  the  mind  with  the  grandest  and  sublimest  images. 
Hamilton's  account  of  them,  and  Rar.pe  en  the  volca- 
ncs  in  Germany,  will  astonish   your  imagination.     You 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  97 

may  add  to  the  list  Swammerdam's  History  of  Insects, 
translated  by  Floyd,  and  revised  by  Dr.  Iliil. 

But  I  will  desist,  for  if  I  was  to  give  you  only  the 
ntimes  of  writers  on  the  subject,  they  would  fill  a  vol- 
ume. No  private  fortune  would  be  sufficient  to  pur- 
chase them,  and  the  perusal  would  require  more  time, 
than  would  consist  with  your  other,  various  engage- 
ments. 


LETTER  LVII> 

WHEN  you  have  viewed  th«:  wonders  of  nature  in 
Miniature,  astronomy  will  shew  them,  in  the  sublime. — 
Telescopes  will  present  you  with  a  most  stupendous 
view  of  the  heavens  ;  suns,  piled  on  suns  ;  worlds,  on 
wurlds  ;  and  the  great  creator,  presiding  over  all,  in  the 
majesty  of  perfection.  You  will  he  lost  and  absorbed  in 
the  magnificent  contemplation.  You  will  feel  yourself 
as  nothing  before  God,  and  confess  him  to  be  all  in  all. 
A  real  astronomer  must  be pious^  or  insensible.  How- 
ever some  have  thought  revelation  partial,  the  language 
of  these  orbs  is  certnmly  universal.  "Their  sound  is 
gone  out  into  all  lands,  and  their  words  unto  the  ends  of 
the  world."  The  sentiment  they  proclaim,  is  majesty 
to  God  ;  to  man,  humility,  self-abasement,  devotion. 

Nicholson's  Introducticn  to  Natural  Philosophy,  in 
two  volumes,  octavo,  is  an  excellent  book  upon  this 
subject,  and  Derham's  Astro-theology  must  elevate- the 
mind,  and  improve  the  heart  of  every  reader.  Grego- 
ry's Astronomy,  and  Huygen's  Celestial  Worlds  dis- 
covered, are  very  useful  and  entertaining,  and  may  to- 
gether form  a  sufficient  library  for  this  department  of 
science.  Perhaps  I  should  have  added  Ray's  Wisdom 
of  God  in  the  Creation.  They,  who  declaim  against 
knowkdg2,  in  a  woman,  have  not  surely  considered 
how  much  this,  and  many  other  branches  of  it  are  con- 
nected with  all  the  sublime  and  pious  affections, 

I 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 


LETTER  XVIII. 

POETRY,  I  do  not  wish  you  to  cultivate,  further 
than  to  possess  a  relish  for  its  beauties.  Verses,  if  not 
excellent,  are  execrable  indeed.  The  muses  live  upon 
a  mount,  and  there  is  no  enjoying  any  of  their  favors, 
unless  you  can  climb  to  the  heights  of  Parnassus. 

Besides  a  passion  for  poetry  is  dangerous  to  a  woman. 
It  heightens  her  natural  sensibility  to  an  extravagant 
degree,  and  frequently  inspires  such  a  romantic  turn  of 
mind,  as  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  solid  duties  and 
proprieties  of  life. 

To  increase  the  number  of  imaginary,  when  life  a- 
bounds  with  such  real  sorrows,  by  nursing  a  sickly  ex- 
travagant sensibility,  is,  in  a  rational  creature,  the  very 
height  of  imprudence.  The  ancients  endeavored  to 
cherish  fortitude,  and  resolution,  by  giving  strength  to 
the  body  and  \  igor  to  the  mind.  From  some  of  their 
states,  poety,  amongst  other  things,  was  absolutely  ex- 
eluded,  as  tending  to  enervate  the  minds  of  a  people 
and  unfit  them  for  the  struggles  and  activities  of  life  % 
and  it  is  certain  that  the  owners  of  an  exquisite  sensi- 
bility, for  a  few  moments  of  pleasure,  have  days  of  vex- 
ation. In  this  human  wilderness,  thorns  are  peren- 
nials. Roses  are  but  the  perishable  ornaments  of  sum- 
mer. 

The  late  Mr.  Shenstone,  amongst  many  others,  is  an 
unhappy  instance  of  the  misfortune  I  have  mentioned. 
His  works,  though  not  of  the  first  magnitude,  are  ex- 
ceedingly agreeable  ;  but  his  poetical  enthusiasm  was~a 
source  of  perpetual  irritation  and  misfortune.  Having 
cultivated  his  taste,  more  than  his  prudence,  his  feel- 
ings, more  than  his  fortitude,  and  his  imagination,  more 
than  his  judgment,  his  life  was  one,  unvaried  train  of 
inquietudes.  His  mind  was  ruffled  with  imaginary  in- 
iuries  ;  his  peace  disturbed  with  fanciful  affronts,  and 
his  disordered  f.nances  left  him  every  thing,  but  com- 
fort, dignity,  and  independence. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  99 

With  a  fortune,  that  only  justified  a  neat  and  homely 
dwelling,  his  genius  was  not  content  with  less  than  the 
superb  appendages  of  a  palace.  In  forming  the  Lease* 
ours,  he  sacrificed  to  enthusiasm,  what  he  ow*d  to  con- 
tentment. He  panted  for  n.  paradise,  and  a  paradise  he 
had  ;  but  it  soon  became  a  wilderness  of  thorns.  Mer- 
ciless creditors  had  no  candor  for  the  poet,  and  made 
no  allowance  for  the  exquisiteness  of  his  taste. 

They  saw  no  charms  in  shrubs,  in  blossoms,  or  in 
prospects,  and  they  awoke  him  with  an  iron  grasp  from 
his  delicious  intrancement.  Whilst  a  noble  neighbor, 
emulating  and  outvying,  on  a  larger  scale,  the  beauties 
of  his  elysium,  or  exhibiting  it  to  a  stranger,  from  an 
unfavorable  point  of  view,  inflicted  on  his  sickly  feel- 
ings, an  heart-felt  affliction,  which  he  had  neither  the 
possibility  of  avoiding,  nor  the  philosophy  to  support. 

LETTER  LIX. 

THOUGH  I  do  not  wish  you  to  become  a  poet,  it 
13  however,  necessary,  that  you  should  not  be  wholly 
unacquainted  with  the  writings  of  many,  inimitable 
bards.  They  will  certainly  refine  your  taste,  and 
spread  a  very  elegant  repast  for  your  private  amuse- 
ment. 

Shakespeare  is,  perhaps  the  first  genius  of  the  world  ; 
and  some  of  his  dramatic  works,  whilst  they  astonish, 
will- give  you  an  useful  fund  of  historical  information. 

The  immortal  poem  of  Paradise  Lost  should  rot  on- 
ly be  in  the  hands,  but  graven  on  the  heart,  of  every 
woman,  because  Milton,  above  all  other  authors,  des- 
cribes the  distinguishing  graces  of  the  sex,  and  in  his 
Eve,  has  exhibited  an  exquisite  pattern  of  female  per- 
fection. On  this  subject,  his  feelings  were  always  a- 
wakened  in  an  extraordinary  manner  :  his  imagination 
glowed,  and  he  has  given  it  the  finest  touches  of  his 
pencil. 

Milton,  like  all  great  men,  was  fully  sensible  of  the 
blessings  we  derive  from  the  society   of  women,  and 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

how  cheerless  the  face  of  nature  would  have  been  With- 
out them.  He,  therefore,  labors  to  make  the  mother 
of  his  Paradise  every  thing  that  c6uld  charm,  and  every 
thing  that  could  alleviate  the  infelicities  of  life.  Let 
the  libertirie  read  his  description  of  marriage,  and  tell 
me  what  he  thinks  of  the  prevailing  rage  for  impurity 
and  seduction. 

Homer  is  universally  celebrated  ;  and,  though  you 
tannot  read  his  poem  in  the  original  language,  Pope 
has  given  an  admirable  translation.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  Drydcn's  Virgil,  if  you  wish,  to  taste  the  exqui- 
site richness  of  these  ancient  authors. 

Mason's  poems  have  great  merit,  and  have  acquired 
him  considerable  celebrity.  His  Caractacus,  his  Elfri- 
da,  and  his  English  Garden  have  all  been  admired.— 
Nothing,  however,  from  his  pen,  has  pleased  me  more, 
than  the  epitaph  upon  his  lady.  His  talents  seem  to  be 
particularly  formed  for  the  pensive  and  pathetic.  But 
poetry,  after  all,  is  but  an  embellishment,  and,  in  the 
i  haracter  of  a  divine,  a  very  secondary  distinction.  How 
much  more  important  and  useful  to  mankind,  are  the 
labors  of  that  pastor,  who,  by  one  judicious,  impassion- 
ed and  well  directed  discourse,  appals  the  sinner,  en- 
< "ravages  the  saint,  revives  the  drooping,  guides  the  per- 
plexed, or  condescends  to  cheer  the  bed  of  sickness  with 
divine  consolations. 

This  remark,  however,  is  not  particularly  intended  to 
depreciate  the  ingenious  author  of  Caractacus.  He  is 
said  to  excel  likewise,  as  a  preacher. 


LETTER  LX. 

IN  Poetry,  the  ladies  have,  of  late,  asserted  their 
claim  to  genius,  and  the  trampled  henorsof  their  under- 
standing. Several  of  them  appear,  on  the  walks  of  Par- 
nassus, with  considerable  lustre. 

Miss  Seward,,  in  my  idea,  is  a  star  of  the  first  mag. 
situde  in  the  hemisphere  of  imagination.  She  has  giv- 
en us  chiefly,  little  fugitive  pieces  j  a  monody  on  the 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY..  lOl 

death  of  captain  Cook,  and  major  Andn'  ;  a  poem  to 
the  memory  of  lady  Miller,  and  a  few  stanzas  to  Mr. 
Wright,  on  taking  her  father's  picture.  The  last  always 
gave  me  the  highest  pleasure.  It  required  indeed  no 
great  effort,  but  is  a  most  pleasing  specimen  of  filial  af- 
fection, and  of  a  rich,  fervid,  glowing  imagination. — 
Her  Louisa,  though  her  largest,  is  not,  in  my  idea,  her 
happiest  performance.  A  novel  is  too  much  dignified 
by  the  charms  of  poetry.  It  is  a  courtesan,  dressed 
like  a  queen. 

Whenever  Miss  Hannah  More  takes  up  her  pen,  she 
never  loses  sight  of  piety  and  virtue.  Her  Bleeding 
Rock,  Search  after  happiness,  Sir  Eldred  of  the  Bower, 
Sacred  Dramas,  Female  Fables,  fs:c.  will  please  and  in- 
struct you.  The  little  tract,  lately  published,  intiiled, 
14  Thoughts  on  the  Manners  of  the  Great,"  which  has 
had  so  very  extensive  a  circulation,  is  said  to  have  come 
from  her  ingenious  pen.  The  design  is  excellent,  and 
the  execution  displays  a  considerable  knowledge  of  hu- 
man life  and  manners.  I  wish  it  may  leave  some  last- 
ing impressions.  But  alas  !  the  dissipated  have  few  iftr/dlfr 
tervals  for  reflection.. 

Miss  Williams  bids  fair- for  a  poetic  laurel,  that  shall 
long  be  green.  Her  Peru  is  a^  work  of  considerable 
merit. 

The  little  sonnets  of  Miss  Charlotte  Smith  are  soft, 
pensive,  sentimental  and  pathetic,  as  a  woman's  produc- 
tions should  be.  The  muses,  if  I  mistake  not,  will  in 
time,  raise  her  to  a  considerable  eminence.  She  has. 
as  yet,  stepped  forth  only  in  little  things,  witha  diffidence 
th  it  is  characteristic  of  real  genius  in  \ts  Jirst  attempts. 
Her  next,  public  entre  may  be  more  in  style^and  more 
consequential. 

The  Comtesse  le  Genlis  I  have  before  mentioned,  as 
a  woman  of  a  fine  taste,  and  a  cultivated  understanding. 
Her  Theatre  stir  V Education,  as  founded  on  a  dramatic 
plan,  may  be  recommended  amongst  other  poetical  pro- 
ductions. There  is  not  a  sweeter  rose  in  the  garden 
rat  arc,  than  hers  of  Salency,„ 
I.  2. 


102  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

Lord  Lyttleton  was  not,  by  any  means,  a  capital  poet. 
There  is,  however,  such  a  delicacy,  softness,  piety,  and 
tender  pathos  in  his  strains,  as  do  the  highest  credit  to 
his  otl'h  heart,  and  improve  that  of  every  attentive  rend- 
er. His  monody  upon  his  Lucy  has  immortalized  his 
sensibility,  his  affection!,  and  his  virtue. 

Akenside's  work  on  the  Pleasures  of  Imagination, 
needs  no  other  recommendation,  than  what  it  has  receiv- 
ed from  a  generous  and  a  discerning  public.  It  is  high- 
ly interesting ;  it  required  a  very  considerable  effort, 
and  his  genius  has  rendered  it  beautifully  picturesque. 

Cowper's  poems  are  calculated  to  do  considerable 
service.  He  has  made  the  muses  hand-maids  to  reli- 
gion. He  has  chosen  verses,  only  as  a  vehicle  for  con- 
veying instructions  of  so  important  a  nature,  as  would 
not,  by  any  means,  have  dishonored  the  pulpit.  His 
style  is  simple,  bold,  manly,  spirited,  and  energetic;  his 
judgment,  strong  and  penetrating  ;  his  metaphors,  for- 
cible and  happily  conceived  ;  his  observations  on  life 
and  manners,  accurate,  and  his  satire,  just  and  poig- 
nant* 

He  does  not  seem  so  much  to  have  studied  the  pro- 
duction of  a  poem,  with  unity  for  its  design,  and  har- 
mony in  all  its  parts,  as  to  serve  the  cause  of  piety  and 
virtue  by  general,  desultory  and  impassioned  reflections. 
His  work,  on  the  whole,  is  a  strong  specimen  of  genius 
p.nd  talents  ;  rigid  criticism,  perhaps,  would  say,  that 
;:iety  wants  a  little  mildness,  and  seems  to  breathe 
the  spirit  of  a  party. 

But  the  most  finished  poet  of  the  age  is'  Hayley. — 
His  Essay  on  History  and  on  Epic  Poetry,  his  Ode  to 
Howard,  and  his  Triumph  of  Temper,  have  received 
very  great  and  very  general  applause. 


LETTER  LXL 

YOU  11  question  is  a   very  proper  one,  and  I  will 
(i  ve  you  the  best  satisfaction  in  my  power. 
Pronunciation  or  that  part  of  grammar,  called  Or- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADW  103 

thoepy,  as  to  any  uncommon  or  difficult  words,  is 
governed  by  the  quantity,  which  those  words  have  in 
the  original  language,  from  which  they  are  derived. — 
As  you  cannot  be  supposed  to  understand  the  dead  lan- 
guages, you  will  of  course,  frequently,  be  at  a  loss  how 
to  pronounce  many  words  with  propriety.  7'he  only- 
method  is  recourse  to  a  dictionary,  and  the  best  in  my 
opinion,  are  those  of  Sheridan  and  Johnson.  Pronun- 
ciation, however,  is  a  very  fluctuating  thing  }  and  though 
there.certainlv  is  a  standard  of  propriety,  over  which 
mere  fashion  ought  to  have  no  power,  yet,  I  should  al- 
ways recommend  a  conformity  to  the  manner  of  the  po- 
litest people  you  may  happen  to  converse  with,  rather 
than  a  pedantic  affectation  of  grammatical  strictness. 
The  latter  would  be  thought  a  conceited  ostentation  of 
knowledge,  which,  in  a  young  lady,  would  not  be  for- 
given. 

The  allusions  to  Jupiter,  Pallas,  Venus,  the  Graces, 
the  Muses,  Helicon,  Parnassus,  which  have  so  much 
puzzled  you  in  the  poets  you  have  lately  read,  will  be 
fully  explained  in  Tooke's  Pantheon,  or  History  of  the 
Heathen  Gods.  The  general  fact  is,  that  before  the 
knowledge  of  the  true  God  dawned  on  their  minds, 
these  poor,  ignorant  heathens  never  dreamed  of  one  om- 
nipotent, all  sufficient,  all  pervading  spirit,  which  the 
scriptures  have  revealed,  and  described,  as  possessed  of 
all  possible  perfections.  They,  therefore,  formed  to 
themselves  a  multipli  iti/  of  gods,  and  attributed  to  one 
of  them  in  particular,  with  a  specific  name,  every  great 
quality  or  superior  excellence,  that  appeared  beyond  the 
ability  of  mortals.  These  deities  they  arranged  into 
different  classes,  according  to  their  supposed  degrees  of 
pre-eminence  ;  and  fancied  some  of  them  to  inhabit  the 
heavens,  and  others,  the  woods^groves,  rivers,  springs, 
mountains,  he. 

You  will  be  anaused  with  their  fanciful  opinions  ;  and 
if  you  think  aright,  you  will  learn  to  bless  the  Almigh- 
ty, on  your  knees,  for  having  cast  your  lot  in  an  age  and 
country,  where  the  gospel  has  dispersed  these  mists  and 


lOt-  LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY. 

errors,  dignified  our  views,  and  nature  bevond  all  ex- 
pression, and  given  us  the  clearest  knowledge  of  our 
dirty.  You  will  fed  the  force  and  propriety  of  that 
clause  in  our  liturgy,  a  We  bless  thee  for  our  creation, 
preservation,  and  all  the  blessings  of  this  life  ;  but  a- 
bovt  all,  for  thine  inestimable  love  in  the  redemption  of 
the  world  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  means  of 
grace,  and  for  the  hope  of  glory." 

LETTER  LXII. 

my  nr..\R   luct, 

A  LI  FTLE  taste  for  the  line  arts  of  paintings, 
sculpture,  architecture,  wili.be  of  singular  use.  It  will 
render  every  excursion  you  make,  and  every  curiosity 
you  behold,  exceedingly  delightful,  and  enable  you  to 
become  entertaining  to  all  with  whom  you  converse. 

A  person  thus  accomplished,  surveys  an  elegant  pile 
of  buildings,  the  designs  of  a  Palladio,  the  landscapes 
of  a  Claude  Lorrian,  the  portraits  of  a  Titian,  or  the 
transfiguration  of  a  Raphael,  with  uncommon  rapture* 
and  can  entertain. herself,  for  hours,  with  a  ruin  or  a 
castle,  in  which  the  unskilful  can  see  nothing  but  de- 
formity, or  the  corrosions  of  time. 

Wi  iters  on  Sculpture  and  Architecture  are  not  nu- 
merous, and  I  am  wading  bevond  my  depth  when  I  at- 
tempt to  recommend  them.  Winkle  man's  reflections  on 
sculpture  of  the  Greeks,  Evelyn's  Parallel  of  ancient 
and  modern  architecture,  and  Morris's  Lectures,  may 
give  you  v>me  ideas  on  the  subject. 

On  the  art  of  painting,  more  has  been  written  ;  yet 
without  a  natural  genius  for  it,  and  some  previous  in- 
v.ructions  from  a  master,  I  do  not  know  whether  you 
will  ;>e  able  to  make  any  gre.it  proficiency, 

Webb's  Inquiry  into  the  Beauties  of  painting,  is  a 
very  learned,  elegant,  ingenious  work,  and  interesting, 
in  a  high  degree,  even  to  those  who  are,  by  no  means, 
to  be  ranked  among  the  cognoscenti.  The  quotations 
(rom    Homer,  Virgil,   Shakespeare,.  Milton,   Boileau* 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  105 

Moliere,  Racine,  Tasso,  Ariosto,  Metestatio,  are  not 
only  well  contrived  to  illustrate  the  subject,  but  to  de- 
light every  person  of  reading  and  taste  ;  whilst  the  pic- 
turesque imagery  and  splendid  language  would  stamp 
a  value  on  any  production. 

I  remember  to  have  been  charmed  some  yearn  ago, 
with  reading  a  small  work,  entitled,  an  •*  Essav  on 
Prints  and  Picturesque  Beauty.'17  I  do  not  recollect 
whether  it  bore  the  name  of  any  author  ;  but  it  struck 
me  as  a  very  interesting  and  valuable  performance. 
Genius  and  knowledge  were  wonderfully  united,  and 
embellished  the  whole. 

Ferguson's  Art  of  Drawing  in  Perspective,  I  con- 
ceive to  be  useful,  as  an  elementary  work.  An  Essay 
on  Landscape  may  be  considered  in  the  same  light ;  and 
you  will  be  instructed  and  delighted,  at  the  same  time, 
with  Hayley's  two  epistles  to  Rnmney,  and  Fresnoy's 
Art  of  Painting*  translated  bv  Mason.  This  last  men- 
tioned author  is  said  to  excel  in  the  three  sister  arts  of 
painting,  poetry,  and  music.  In  the  two  first  he  has 
given  the  world  specimen's  of  his  skill ;  with  the  lat- 
ter he  is  said  frequently  to  entertain  the  circle  of  his 
private  friends. 

But  the  best  place  for  gratify ins?  your  curiosity,  and 
I  should  think  for  improving  your  taste  in  paintings,  is 
the  annual  exhibitions  of  them  at  Somerset-house.  The 
metropolis,  amidst  all  its  variety  of  invention,  does  not 
furnish,  in  my  idea,  a  more  elegant,  or  a  more  improv- 
ing, amusement.  We  see  with  pride,  some  artists  of 
our  own  country,  vying  with  the  most  celebrated  mas- 
ters of  antiquity.  Under  the  hands  of  a  Reynolds,  a 
Wright,  a  West,  and  many  others,  the  English  canvas 
glows  with  inimitable  beauty.  A  Raphael,  a  Titian,  a 
Correggio,  a  Rubens,  a  Potrssia,  or  a  Salvator  Rossa 
seem  in*->me  degree,  transplanted  to  thr*  British  isle. 

A  stranger,  indeed,  is  at  first  sight,  so  much  dazzled 
with  the  splendour  and  elegance  of  that  company,  about 
him,  that,  in  the  charms  of  living  beauty',  he  is  tempted 
to  overlook  the  efforts  of  the  pencil.  In  rto  other  ptac&' 
that  I  ever  saw   or   recollected,   do  art  and    nature  so 


10G  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

powerfully  combine  to  bewitch  the  senses,  and  captivate 
the  imagination. 

If  my  time  and  place  of  residence  were  at  my  own 
command,  I  should  frequently  in  the  season,  devote  to 
pleasure,  one  of  those  languid,  afternoon  hours,  when 
the  spirits  are  exhausted  wi.h  the  employments  of  the 
morning,  and  want  renewed  vigor,  tlasticity  and  anima- 
tion. 

I  am  much  interested,  believe  me,  in  .the  relish  I 
would  give  you  for  {his  speci'esof  improvement.  I  look 
forward,  with  a  degree  of  pleasure,  to  the  time  when  L 
may  be  the  companion  of  your  little  tours,  and  delight- 
ed with  your  observation  ;  when  we  may  hang  in  curi- 
osity, over  fossils  and  petrifactions  ;  when  we  shall  pore, 
over  paintings,  buildings,  ruins,  with  all  the  luxury  of 
artiste,  and  in  such  innocent,  rational  pleasures  endeav- 
our to  forget  the  sorrow  that  will  crowd  on  this  varie- 
gated life. 

LETTER  LXIIL 

IT  is  so  very  agreeable  to  peruse  voyages  and  trav- 
els  into  foreign  countries,  by  way  of  coming  easily  Rt  a 
knowledge  of  their  history,  customs,  ceremonies  and 
degrees  of  civilization,  that  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  numT 
ber  and  multiplicity  of  these  productions.  Authors 
wish  to  be  reaJ,  and  this  is  the  sort  of  work,  which, 
if  judiciously  executed,  suits  every  taste.  It  has  a  ten- 
dency to  enlarge  the  mind,  and  divest  it  of  illiberal  pre- 
judices. Books  of  this  kind  are  now  become  so  nume- 
rous, that  the  difficulty  only  is,  how  to  make  the  selec- 
tion. 

I  will  begin  with  Moore,  for  he  has  pleased  univer- 
sallv.  Your  collection  will  be  graced  by  his  View  of. 
Soiiety  and  Manners  in  France,  Swisserland,  *nd  Ger- 
many, in  two  volumes,  and  his  View  of. Society  in  Italy, 
in  two  more, 

Wraxall  is  another  writer  in  this  way,  who  has  supe- 
yi  -  merit.  He  has  published  a  tour  through  the  nor* 
them  parts  of  Europe,  and  through  France. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LAD),  107 

Pennant  has  been  singularly  happy  in  all  his  attempts. 
He  interests  the  antiquarian,  the  scholar  and  the  man  of 
genius  in  his  various  productions.  His  works  are  nu- 
merous. A  tour  through  Scotland,  Voyages  to  the 
Hebrides,  a  Tour  in  North  Wales  ;  a  Journey  to  Snow- 
don  ;    and  Journey  from  Chester  to  London,  &c. 

Swisserland  is  one  of  those  romantic  countries  that  de- 
lights us  in  idea.  Coxe  has  given  sketches  of  it,  in  a 
very  pleasing  and  picturesque  manner. 

Sherlock's  English  Traveller  is  a  very  original  and 
entertaining  book.  The  author  is  evidently  a  man  of 
fancy  and  genius,  but  rather  fulsome  in  his  panegyrics 
on  particular  characters,  and  excentric  both  in  his  sen- 
timents and  manner.  He  will,  sometimes,  make  you 
smile  with  egotism  and  the  appearance  of  conceit  ;  but 
he  will  likewise  enlighten  your  understanding. 

Cordiner's  Antiquities  and  Scenery  of  the  North  of 
Scotland  is  an  entertaining  work.  The  plates  annexed 
to  it,  please  the  eye,  and  invigorate  the  imagination. 

A  tour  to  the  lakes  is  become  very  fashionable,  and 
is  said  abundantly  to  repay  the  travellers  curiosity. — 
West's  description  of  them  may  be  useful,  though  the 
language  appears  too  florid  and  poetical. 

The  Tour  to  Ermononville  I  have  never  seen  ;  but 
it  is  mentioned  as  possessing  considerable  merit.  Gil- 
pin's Description  of  the  River  Wye  abounds  with  beau- 
tiful scenery,  and  is  a  most  lively  and  entertaining  pro- 
duction. 

But  the  catalogue  would  be  endless.  A  thousand, 
other  books,  of  this  kind,  are  at  hand,  whenever  you  are 
disposed  to  travel  with  them  in  your  closet. 

If  you  have  a  little  knowledge  of  Heraldry,  it  will  be 
an  embellishment ;  an  agreeable  exercise  of  your  taste 
and  ingenuity,  and  may,  occasionally,  suggest  a  channel, 
through  which  you  may  serve  a  valuable  friend.  The 
only  books  I  recollect,  are  the  Elements  of  it,  by  Por- 
ney  ;  Gwillim,  a  large  folio,  and  Edmonson's  Complete 
Body  of  it,  in  two  volumes. 

But  after  all  this  recommendation  of  different  stud- 


1QS  LETTKKS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

ies,  do  not  mistake  me.  I  do  not  want  to  make  you  a 
fine  writer,  an  historian,  a  naturalist,  a  geographer,  an 
astronomer,  a  pott,  a  painter,  a  connoisseur,  or  a- virtuo- 
so, of  any  kind.  But  I  would  have  you  to  possess  such 
a  general  knowledge,  as  will  usefully  and  innocently  fill 
up  }  our  leisure  hours,  raise  your  taste  above  fantastic 
levities,  render  \  ou  an  agreeable  friend  and  acquaint- 
ance, qualify  you  for  the  solid  duties  of  your  station, 
whatever  they  may  be,  and  elevate,  above  all,  your  soul 
to  him,  who  is  the  source  of  all  knowledge,  greatness, 
and  perfection. 

LETTER  LXIV. 

THE  accomplishments  of  a  woman  maybe  compris- 
ed under  some,  or  all  of  the  following  articles  ;  needle- 
work, embroidery,  &c.  drawing,  music,  dancing,  dress, 
politeness,  &c. 

To  wield  the  needle  with  advantage,  so  as  to  unite 
the  useful  and  beautiful,  is  her  particular  province,  and 
a  sort  of  ingenuity,  which  shews  her  in  the  most  amia- 
ble and  attracting  point  of  view.  Solomon  describes 
his  excellent  daughter,  as  employed  in  the  labors  of  the 
distaff,  or  the  needle.  Homer  paiuts  his  lovely  mat- 
rons as  engaging  in  such  domestic  avocations.  Andro- 
mache s  thus  relieving  her  solitude,  when  she  is  sur- 
prised into  transport,  by  the  unexpected  return  of  Hec- 
tor from  the  war. 

The  heart  glows  with  pleasure,  when  we  read  the  ac- 
counts of  the  good  Roman  matrons  in  the  purer  and 
unvitiated  ages  of  their  republic  The  greatest  men, 
princes,  warriors,  senators  and  philosophers,  were  cloth- 
eel  in  the  labors  of  their  wives  and  daughters.  Indus- 
try, in  this  happy  period,  was  esteemed  a  virtue,  and  it 
was  not  beneath  a  woman  of  the  first  quality  or  under- 
standing to  be  an  excellent  (economist,  who  "  looked 
well  to  the  w  a\  s  of  her  household.'' 

Employment  is  the  grand  preservative  of  health  at  J 
irnocence.     When  we  have  nothing  to  do,  we  immedi- 


LETT EftB    TO    A    YOUtfd    LADY.  100 

atcly  become  a  burden  to  ourselves  ;  the  mind  and  body 
languish  for  want  of  exercise,  and  we  fall  into  a  thou* 
sand  dangerous  temptations. 


LETTER  LXV. 

IF  you  have  any  natural  taste  for  drawing,  I  should 
wish  you  to  indulge  it.  I  think  it  an  accomplishment, 
very  well  adapted  both  to  the  taste  and  delicacy  of  your 
stx.  It  will  agreeably  exercise  vour  ingenuity  and  in- 
vention. It  will  teach  vou  to  di. cover  a  supciior  finish 
in  all  the  varied  landscapes  and  scenery  of  nature  ;  to 
survey  the  works  of  our  distinguished  masters,  with  an 
higher  relish  and  a  more  poignant  curiosity  ;  and  it  will 
heighten  all  the  innocent  pleasures  of  your  retirement. 
Wfien  nature  howls  with  winds,  or  is  covered  vviih 
Snow,  you  will  be  able  in  a  moment,  to  call  a  fancy 
spring  upon  the  canvas,  of  which  the  blossoms  will  be 
tver  fragrant,  and  the  trees  ever  green.  You  may  thus 
have  birds,  always  on  the  spray,  and  larks,  apparently 
thrilling  out  praise  to  their  bountiful  Creator. 


LETTER  LXVL 

MUSIC,  by  which  I  mean  playing  on  an  instrument, 
or  occasionally  singing,  is  a  very  desirable  acquisition 
in  any  woman,  who  has  time  and  money  enough  to  de> 
vote  to  the  purpose,  for  it  requires  no  inconsiderable 
portion  of  both.  It  will  enable  you  to  entertain  your 
friends  ;  to  confer  pleasure  upon  others,  must  increase 
your  own  happiness,  and  it  will  inspire  tranquility,  and 
harmonize  your  mind  and  spirits,  in  many  oi  those  ruf- 
Jied  or  lonely  hours,  which,  in  almost  every  situation, 
will  be  your  lot. 

The  passions  of  mankind,  however,  have  Very  much 
debased  and  profaned  this  art,  which,  like  others,  was 
originally  sacred,  and  intended  to  chant  the  praises  of 
the  Almighty.  Many  songs  are  couched  in  such  indel- 
icate language,  and  convev  such  a  train  of  l\ucious  ideas, 
K 


1 10  LITTEkS  to  a  young  lady. 

as  are  only  calculated  to  soil  the  purity  of  a  youthful 
mind.  I  should  therefore,  recommend,  (if  I  may  so 
express  m)  self )  rather  the  sacred,  than  the  profane,  of 
this  study.  Indeed,  church  music  is,  in  itself,  more  de- 
lightful, than  any  other.  What  can  be  superior  to  some 
passages  of  Judas  Maccabseus,  or  the  Messiah  ?  There 
is  not,  perhaps,  an  higher  amongst  the  melancholy  plea- 
sures, than  a  funeral  dirge. 

Dancing,  in  a  degree,  is  professedly  an  essential  part 
of  a  good  education,  as  correcting  any  axikwardncss  of 
gesture,  giving  an  easy  and  graceful  motion  to  the  body, 
and  if  practised  early,  perhaps  even  in  directing  its 
growth.  Modern  manners,  however,  have  carried  the 
fondness  for  this  accomplishment  to  an  immoderate  ex- 
treme. A  passion  for  making  the  best  figure  in  a  min- 
uet, is  vastly  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  woman's  under- 
standing. And  I  am  not  sure,  whether  excelling  in  this 
particular  does  not  inspire  too  great  a  fondness  for  dis- 
sipating pleasures,  and  proportionably  abate  the  ardour 
for  more  retired  virtues.  A  woman,  who  can  sparkle 
and  engage  the  admiration  of  every  beholder,  at  a  birth 
night  or  a  ball,  is  not  always  content  with  the  graver  of- 
fice of  managing  a  family,  or  the  still  and  sober  inno- 
cence of  domestic  scenes.  Besides  dancing  is  not,  at 
certain  moments,  without  its  temptations.  An  elegant, 
"illuminated  room,  brilliant  company,  the  enchanting 
powers  of  music,  admiring  eyes,  obsequious  beaus,  at- 
titudes, &c.  are  apt  to  transport  the  mind  a  little  beyond 
the  rational  medium  of  gentle  agitation. 

I  would  not,  however,  be  a  cynical  moralist,  that 
would  abridge  you  of  any  harmless  amusement.  I  have 
only  my  apprehensions  for  your  innocence,  for  indeed  it 
is  a  plant  of  a  very  delicate  complexion.  And  you  will 
then  have  attained  the  perfection  of  your  character, 
when  you  can  mix  a  passion  for  these  elegant  accom- 
plishments, with  a  turn  for  solid  and  domestic  virtue  ; 
when  you  can,  one  night  be  distinguished  at  a  ball,  and 
the  next,  want  no  other  entertainment  than  what  the 
shade,  your  family,  a  well  chosen  book  or  an  agreeable 


LITTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  Hi 

tvalk  are  able  to  afford.  I  should  wish  you  to  be  inno- 
cent, and  \{  possible,  accomplished  at  the  same  time  ;  but 
at  any  rate,  I  would  have  you  innocent,  because  other- 
wise you  cannot  be  happy. 

LETTER  LXVIL 

MY    DEAR     LUCY, 

WILL  you  bear  with  my  impertinence,  if  I  attempt 
to  give  y«H  my  directions  on  a  subject  where  yovir  sex 
are  allowed  to  possess  infinitely  more  taste  ami  judg- 
ment than  our  own — that  of  dress,  f  offer,  however, 
my  plain  and  undisguised  sentiments,  only  for  your  ad- 
vantage ;  nnd  I  am  sure  will  receive  them  with  that 
candor  and  indulgence,  to  which  my  friendship  for  you 
has  an  indisputable  claim. 

Neatness,  you  cannot  cultivate  with  too  much  atten- 
tion. I  would  press  it  on  every  female,  as  strongly,  if 
possible,  as  Lord  Chesterfield  did  the  graces  on  his  son. 
The  want  of  it  is  unpardonable  in  a  menu  but  in  n  wo- 
man,  it  is+ehocking.  It  disgusts  all  her  friends  and  in- 
timates ;  has  estranged  the  affections  of  many  an  hus- 
band, and  made  him  seek  that  satisfaction  abroad,  which 
he  found  not  at  home. 

Some  ladies,  who  were  remarkably  attentive  to  their 
persons  before  aiarria^e,  neglect  them  afterwards,  in  an 
egregious  manner.  They  cannot  pay  a  worse  compli- 
ment to  their  own  delicacy,  or  to  their  husband*.  If 
they  conceived  some  efforts  necessary  to  gain  the  prize, 
more,  I  am  sure,  are  required  to  preserve  it. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  (I  believe)  Rochefocault,  that 
nice  observer  of  life  and  manners,  that  the  affection  of 
woman  increases  after  marriage,  whilst  that  of  man  is 
apt  to  decline.  Whatever  be  the  cause,  a  prudent  wo- 
man will,  at  least,  use  every  method  in  her  power  to 
guard  against  so  mortifying  a  change.  Neatness,  how- 
ever, is  easily  practised,  aad  will  always  have  consider- 
able weight. 

In  the  eyes  of  servants  and  domestics,  indeed,  a  wo- 


112  LETTERS    TO     A    YuUN'O     LADY. 

man  losei  her  consequence  nnd  authority  by  a  neglect 
of  her  person.  She  will  not  be  obeyed  with  cheerful- 
ness, she  will  become  an  object  of  ridicule,  in  all  their 
private  parties  and  conversations.  If  inferiors  must  be 
subject,  they  will  pay  an  unconstrained  homage  only  to 
a  person,  who  attracts  by  propriety,  the  estimation  of 
the  world. 

Neatoess  is  the  natural  garb  of  a  well  ordered  mind, 
god  has  a  bear  alliance  with  purity  uf  heart.  Law  has 
said  of  his  Miranda,  that  she  was  always  clean  without, 
because  she  was  always  pare  within.  And  Richardson, 
whose  tuste  was  as  exquisite  as  his  imagination  glow- 
ing, has  painted  his  Clarissa,  as  always  dressed,  before 
she  came  down  stairs,  for  any  company,  that  might 
break  in  upon  her  during  the  whole  day. 

finery  i«?_  seldom  graceful.  The  easy  undress  of  a 
morning  often  pleases  more,  than  the  most  elaborate  and 
costly  o  naments.  I  need  not  say  of  how  much  time 
and  money  they  rob  us,  which  are  sacred  to  virtue  and 
to  the  poor$  nor  how  soon  this  verv  embellished  body 
will  be  dust  and  ashes.  The  perfection  of  *he  an  is 
conveyed  in  iwq  words  ;  an  elegant  simplicity.  Ladies 
are  certainly  injudicious  in  employing  so  many  mule 
friseurs  about  their  persons.  The  custom  is  indelicate  ; 
it  is  contrary  to  cleanliness,  and  all  their  manoeuvres  can- 
not  equal  the  beauty  of  natural,  easy  ringlets,  untortur- 
td  and  unadorned. 

The  nearer  you  approach  to  the  masculine  in  your  ap. 
parel,  the  further  you  will  recede  from  die  appropriate 
eracet  vrd  softness  ol  your  sex.  Addison,  in  his  day, 
lashed,  with  a  delicate  vein  of  irony,  this  absurd  trans- 
formation, 1  he  present  age  wants  such  an  inimitable 
censor.  The  Tiding  habits,  particularly,  that  have  been 
so  fashionable,  and  even  made  their  appearance  at  all 
public  places,  conceal  every  thing  that  is  attractive  in  a 
woman's  person,  her  figure,  her  manner  and  her  grac 
es.  Xhcy  wholly  umex  her,  and  give  her  the  unpleas- 
ing  air  of  an  Amazon,  or  a  virago.  Who  likes  the 
idea  ?  or  if  you  would  be  more  struck  with  the  akurdi- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LAfcY  1 15 

ty,  tell  me  what  you  would  think  of  petite  mail  res,  in- 
muffs  ?  You  immediately  despise  the  ridiculousness  of 
the  one  ;  wTe  &A\\y  feel  the  unnaturalness  of  the  other. 
We  forget  that  you  are  xiomen  in  such  a  garb,  and  we 
forget  to  love. 

Every  public  pnper  one  opens,  is  a  violation  of  your 
delicacy  and  an  insult  to  your  understanding.  Pow- 
ders, perfumes,  pomatums,  cosmetics,  essence  of  roses, 
olympian  dew,  artificial  eyes,  teeth,  hair  advertised  for 
your  advantage,  would  be  an  heavy  stigma  if  some  kin  I 
and  well  disposed  persons  amongst  our  own  sex,  were 
not  willing  to  share  with  you,  a  part  of  the  burden. — 
Blush,  my  dear  girl,  at  such  unseemly  practices.  Be 
content  to  be  what  God  and  nature  intended  you  :  ap- 
pear in  your  true  colours  ;  abhor  any  thing,  like  deceit, 
in  your  appearance,  as  well  as  your  character.  What 
must  all  sensible  men  think  of  a  woman,  who  ha3  a 
room  filled  with  a  thousand  preparations  and  mixtures 
to  deceive  him  ?  What  monev,  what  time  must  be  given 
to  this  odious  insufferable  vanity  !  Under  such  unnatural 
management,  how  different  must  be  the  female  of  the 
evening  and  the  morning  !  What  must  we  think  of  mar- 
riage, dressing-rooms  and  toilets  !  What  an  opening 
for  expostulation,  coldnesses,  aversions  !  If  an  "ele- 
gant simplicity"  be  the  perfection  of  dress,  this  is  sure- 
ly, as  far  as  possible,  removed  from  perfection.  It  is 
not  simplicity  ;  it  is  not  elegant. 

It,  would  be  cruel  to  add  any  thing  to  the  punishment 
of  the  men,  who  can  have  recourse  to  such  effeminate  ar- 
tifices. They  have  already  the  scorn  and  ridicule  of 
one  sex,  and  the  stern  contempt  and  indignation  of  the 
other.  They  are  poor  amphibious  animals,  that  the 
best  naturalists  know  not  under  what  class  to  arrange. 

Painting  is  indecent,  offensive,  criminal*  It  hastens 
the  approach  of  wrinkles  \  it  destroys  constitutions,  and 
defaces  the  image  of  your  maker. 

Would  you  think  of  giving  the  last  touch  to  the  piec- 
es of  a  Poussin,  or  a  Salvator  Rosa  ?  Believe  for  a  mcv 
K  2.. 


i  14  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

ment,  that  the  Almighty  is,  at  least,  as  great  in  ku 
as  either  of  these  artists. 

Let  the  martyrs  of  fashion,  luxury  and  dissipation, 
who  turn  night  into  dav,  have  recourse  to  this  filthy  and 
abominable  practice.  Let  them  seek  a  resource  from 
the  rebukes  of  their  conscience  in  gaiety  and  noise. — 
But  let  the  fairness  of  your  complexion  be  only  that  of 
nature,  and  let  your  rouge  be  the  crimson  blush  of 
health,  arising  from  temperance,  regularity,  exercise 
and  air. 

That  beauty,  truly  blent,  whose  red  and  white. 
Nature's  own  sweet,  and  cunning  hand  laid  on. 

Such  simplicity  will  recommend  you  to  God  ;  and  if 
you  retain  any  fears  of  offending  him,  how  dare  you  de- 
face his  image,  in  your  countenance,  by  artificial  deco- 
rations. Such  innocence  will  charm,  when  paint  is  dis- 
solved. It  will  call  up  a  bloom,  and  cast  a  fragrance 
even  on  the  latest  winter  of  your  age. 

LETTER  LXVIII. 

MI   DEAR    LUCY, 

\  WOMAN  may  be  fairly  allowed  a  little  more 
attention  to  ornament,  than  would  be  pardonable  in  the 
other  sex.  Nature,  through  all  her  works,  h.\s  lavish- 
ed more  externa!  brilliancy,  colouring  and  plumage  on 
the  female.  And  though  dress,  in  itielf,  is  no  essential 
quality,  we  are  induced  to  judge  more  of  your  real  char- 
ncter  and  disposition  from  it,  than  you  are  apt  to  imag- 
ine. We  fancy  it,  in  its  different  modifications,  a  mark 
of  good  sense,  delicacy  and  discretion,  or  of  the  very 
opposite  defects.  Every  sensible  woman,  therefore, 
will  study  it  so  far,  as  not  to  subject  herself  to  unfavor- 
able constructions.  She  will  endeavor  to  convince  eve- 
ry beholder,  that  she  knows  the  proper  medium  betwixt 
a ridiculous  profusion,  and  a  total  want,  of  ornament ; 
that  she  can  tissue  plainness  with  elegance  j  that  she 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOU.NO  11  j 

does  not  wish  to  seduce  by  her  appearance,  but  only  to 
please ;  that  she  haa  cultivated  her  mind,  much  more 
than  her  person,  and  placed  the  h  .ghest  value,  not  on 
the  outward,  perishable  casket,  but  the  diamond  within, 

I  rejoice  that  the  good  sense  of  my  country  women 
has  corrected  some  late  glaring  indecencies  of  dress. 
Young  ladies  should  not  be  too  liberal  in  the  display  of 
their  charms.  loo  much  exposure  does  not  enhance 
their  value.  And  it  approaches,  too  nearly,  to  the  man- 
ner of  those  women,  w horn  they  would  surely  think  it 
no  honour  to  resemble.  Bosoms  should  throb  unseen, 
The  bouffant  was  an  ornament  of  too  transparent  a  kind. 
Wherever  delicacy  throws  its  modest  drapery,  imagin- 
ation always  lends  inexpressible  charms.  As  fine  a  wo-! 
man,  as  the  Venus  of  Medici,  would  cease  to  be  ad- 
mired, if  curiosity  ceased  to  be  suspended. 

There  is  a  great  neatness  in  the  dress  of  quakers,  and 
of  some  other  sectaries,  who  have  copied  their  exam- 
ple. It  has,  however,  more  primness  than  ease.  In 
this  respect,  you  have  too  much  good  sense  to  affect 
singularity.  Religion  consists  in  something  more  sub* 
stantial,  than  any  particular  modes  of  appearance.  And 
there  is,  if  I  mistake  not,  some  conceit  and  pride  under 
mis  prodigious,  over-acted  plainness.  Many,  whom 
these  narrow  minded  persons  would  sentence,  perhaps, 
to  torments,  for  being  elegantly  dressed,  have  hearts, 
that  overflow  with  universal  benevolence,  and  infinitely 
more,  piety  and  goodness,  than  themselves. 

You  know  what  young  lady  I  mean  by  EmclLt.  I  do 
not  know  a  person,  that  dresses  better.  She  is  singu- 
larly happy  in  the  choice  of  colours.  Like  her  virtues, 
they  are  of  the  soft  and  shaded  kind,  not  the  brilliant  or 
the  pjaudy.  I  never  saw  her  fine  ;  but  she  never  is  Jan* 
tastic.  She  is  seldom  splendid  ;  but  neatness  is  all  her 
own.  If  she  puts  on  only  a  ribbon,  it  is  selected  with 
all  the  exquisite  modesty  of  her  mind,  and  disposed  of 
by  the  hands  of  taste.  The  graces  always  appear  to 
have  been  in  waiting  for  the  moments,  that  she  ever  suf- 
fers dress  to  take  up  her  attention. 


110  LETWR8    TO    A    YOUKG    LADT. 

I  verv  much  admire  the  sashes,  which,  of  late,  have 
been  so  fashionable  amongst  young  ladies.  They  give 
\r\c  the  idea  of  a  childish  simplicity,  innocence  and  ease. 
These,  and  flowing  ringlets,  are  on  the  system  of nature* 
And  nature  will  always  please. 

I  am  sorry,  however,  to  observe  that  these  girlish  or- 
naments should  likewise  have  encircled  the  less  delicate 
waists  of  some  married  women.  There  cannot  be  a 
more  absurd  or  disgusting  affectation.  If  I  was  not 
writing  to  ladies,  I  would  be  humorous.  On  such  a 
subject,  I  could  be  severe.  But  some  improper  ideas 
might  be  suggested,  and  I  will  only  say,  that  the  sober 
aged  autumn,  is  never  clad  in  the  cheerful  livery  of 
spring. 

On  the  whole,  my  dear  girl,  as  a  reasonable  creature, 
and  as  a  christian,  never  sulfer  yourself  to  be  led  away 
by  an  extravagant  fondness  for  dress.  What  is  finery 
compared  with  understanding  ?  What  is  splendor,  con- 
trasted with  reason  ?  What  is  your  body,  but  a  tempo- 
rary receptacle  for  an  immortal  mind  ?  It  is  but  the 
casket  ;  the  jewel  is  the  soul.  And  how  very  low  and 
poor  in  itself  is  the  ambition  of  apparel  ?  After  all  our 
efforts,  we  can  never  make  it  equal  the  beauty  of  lilies, 
or  to  vie  with  the  exquisite  tints  of  the  rose.  Whatev- 
er you  can  spare,  from  such  expence,  to  give  to  the  poor, 
will  be  a  solid  treasure,  when  beauty  is  but  dust  and 
SkShes,  and  when  gaiety  is  forgotten. 

LETTER  LXIX. 

POLITENESS,  if  supposed,  like  Lord  Chester- 
field's, to  be  made  up  of  dissimulation,  or  to  consist  in 
a  number  of  ceremonious  attitudes  or  fulsome  compli- 
ments, without  any  meaning,  is  ridiculously  frivolous  ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  if  it  springs  from  principle, 
from  a  real  desire  of  pleasing,  and  is  directed  to  its 
proper  ends,  it  '13,  at  least,  a  most  amiable  quality,  if  it 
does  not  rank  in  the  number  of  the  virtues.  In  the  in- 
tercourse of  life,  and  the  present  state  of  society,   this* 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    JLAi>r.  117 

good  breeding  "13  necessary  to  our  own  peace  and  to 
that  of  others.  It  prevents  a  thousand  inquietudes,  ir- 
ritations, offences  ;  it  diffuses  an  innocent  pleasure,  and 
it  diffuses  it  every  moment.  We  daily  converse  with 
many  persons,  considerably  indifferent  to  us,  and  Jrom 
whom  we  expect  neither  services  nor  obligations,  who, 
yet  have  it  in  their  power,  by  a  rough,  ungracious  man- 
ner,  by  unguarded  sayings,  Or  speaking  (as  it  is  called) 
their  minds,  essentially  to  hurt  our  feelings,  sour  our 
spirits,  give  us  a  bad  head-ache,  or  to  break  our  rest ; 
there  are  as  manv,  on  the  other  hand,  who  look  up  to 
us  for  no  essential  favours,  whom,  yet,  in  our  turn,  we 
nv.v,  not  a  little,  irritate  and  distress,  by  a  want  of  ci- 
vility, by  any  hauteur  or  superciliousness  in  our  looks  or 
carriage,  or  a  withholding  of  those  kind  attentions, 
which,  on  everv  principle  of  reason,  humanity  and  civil- 
ization, are  reciprocally  due  from  every  human  creature 
to    not  her. 

This  reasoning,  still  more  forcibly,  applies  to  mem- 
bers of  the  same  family;  to  wives  and  husbands;  chili. 
dren  and  parents  ;  brothers  and  sisters.  If  this  kind  or 
good  breeding  be  ever  violated  amongst  them,  the  con- 
sequence is  coldness,  qtnrre's,  and  gradual  aversion. 

80  great,  indeed,  is  the  influence  of  true  politeness 
over  the  mm  I,  that  even  favours  conferred  in  an  w.'Z- 
pleasiiiQr  minner,  without  it,  become  an  insupportable  in- 
su't ,  whilst  a  refusal  softens  by  it,  into  an  obligation, 
and  is  sometimes,  made  the  basis  of  a  lasting  gratitude, 
affection  or  esteem. 

This  grace  may  be  defined  the  art  of  being  easy  'our- 
selves, in  company,  and  of  making  all  others  easy  about 
us.  It  is  a  proper  medium  betwixt  the  total  want  of, 
and  an  officious,  overacted  civility.  It  consists  in  a  gen- 
eral, indiscriminate  attention  in  doing  little  civil  offices, 
and  saying  obliging  things  to  all  the  parties  we  con- 
verse with  ;  in  accommodating  ourselves,  as  well  as  the 
conversation,  to  their  particular  tastes,  habits  and  in- 
clinations ;  in  keeping  every  offensive  subject  and  idea 
out  of  view;  in  never  glancing  at  our  own   affairs,  and 


I  18  LETTERS    TO    A    TOUNG    LADY. 

almost  paying  the  minutest  regard  to  those  of  others  ; 
in  annihilating,  as  it  were,  ourselves,  and  as  studiously 
exalting  all  that  are  about  us. 

If  I  have  not  much  mistaken,  the  best  rules  for  it 
will  be  found  in  that  religion,  which  requires  us  "  to 
love  one  another  ;  to  be  gentle  and  courteous  ;  to  avoid 
offences  ;  to  become  innocently  all  things  to  all  men  ; 
in  honour  to  prefer  one  another,  and  to  esteem  others 
better  than  ourselves." 

The  exteriors  of  good  breeding,  such  as  presenting 
yourself  gracefully,  entering  or  quitting  a  room  with 
ease,  a  proper  gait,  air,  gesture,  &c.  I  am  not,  at  pres- 
ent considering.  These  are  only  acquired  by  early  edu- 
cation, habits  of  good  company,  or  by  a  general  inter- 
course with  the  world  ;  and  though  they  may  be  want- 
ing, I  will  venture  to  sav,  that  the  person  will  always 
please,  and  always  be  respected,  who  possesses  only  this 
principle  within. 

True  politeness  gives  a  lustre  to  all  our  good  quali- 
ties. It  is  a  sovereign  enamel  to  all  the  virtues,  and 
proportionably  extends  our  power  of  doing  good.-—. 
Learning,  riches,  station,  talents,  genius,  without  it,  are 
overbearing  and  insufferable,  or  at  least  may  be  very 
awk ware/ and  unpleasing.  They  resemble  a  rich  wifn- 
ished  picture,  thrown  into  a  dark  and  an  imphasant  room. 
Politeness  gives  them  the  last  touch,  raises  them  into  a 
proper  light,  and  clothes  thena  with  the  most  beautiful 
drapery. 

Religion  itself  has  often  suffered  for  want  of  this  grace. 
Good  people  have  not  always  been  gentle,  courteous,  or 
well  bred,  and  an  odium  has  been  fixed  on  their  profes- 
sion, which  has  deterred  many  from  becoming  con- 
verts. 

Many  bad  men,  on  the  other  hand,  by  a  pleasing 
manner,  have  so  successfully  varnished  over  their  vices, 
as  to  have  acquired  a  considerable  reputation.  Their 
crimes  have  been  forgotten  in  their  politeness.  Can  I 
mention  a  stronger  argument  to  recommend  this  accom* 
piishment?  We  should  not,  surely,  for  want  of  a  little 
care,  "  suffer  our  good  to  be  evil  spoken  of." 


% 


LETTERS   TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  119 


LETTER  LXX. 

IT  is  a  great  unhappincss  to  many  ladies  of  fortune, 
that  they  have  not  sufficient  employment  to  fill  up  their 
time  ;  and,  in  order  to  prevent  that  languor  and  ennui, 
which  are  the  most  unpleasant  feelings  of  human  life, 
either  fall  into  a  low  state  of  spirits,  or  have  recourse  to 
play,  public  pleasures,  or  a  perpetual  round  of  visits, 
for  their  amusement. 

The  religious  exercises,  however,  and  the  studies  I 
have  recommended,  will  not  only  occupy  your  hours  in 
a  rational  and  useful  manner,  but  some  of  them,  from 
their  very  nature,  will  become  an  inexhaustible  source 
of  the  purest  pleasure.  Still  uniformity,  in  any  one 
pursuit,  however  pleasing,  will  exhaust  the  spirits,  and 
they  will  frequently  want  relief.  The  eye  could  not 
constantly  behold,  without  injury,  the  most  beautiful 
landscape.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  the  privilege  of  angels, 
and  superior  spirits,  to  serve  their  Maker  without  wea- 
riness or  distraction  ;  but  a  mind,  united  to  a  body  of 
clay,  must  have  very  frequent  intervals  of  languor,  and 
want  as  many  of  intermission. 

Innocent  relaxation  is  as  much  a  part  of  true  wisdom, 
as  employment  itself.  Indeed  it  is  necessary  to  fit  us 
for  our  duties.  The  earth  itself  would  not  be  able  to 
vegetate  and  shoot  forth  into  all  the  bloom  and  verdure 
of  spring,  if  it  did  not  regain  its  exhausted  powers  dur- 
ing the  sombrous  leisure  of  the  winter. 

The  rule  is,  we  should  amuse  ourselves,  in  order  to 
live,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word>  and  not  live  to  be 
amused.  Relaxation,  conducted  on  this  principle,  will 
never  occupy  too  great  a  share  of  our  time  or  atten- 
tion. It  will  be  consistent  with  the  universal  principle 
of  "  doing  all  things  to  the  glory  of  God." 

A  woman's  amusements  should,  as  much  as  possible, 
be  domestic  ;  and  her  own  walls  will  present  many  ex- 
cellent opportunities  of  such  a  nature.  The  exercise 
of  parental,  or  filial  affection,  is  a   source    of   heart-felt 


130  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

and  refined  pleasure.  Intercourses  of  tenderness  be- 
twixt  branches  of  the  same  family,  and  the  1'mle  enga- 
ging attentions  they  create,  stimulate  the  finer  move- 
ments of  the  body,  and  give  play  to  all  the  refreshing 
emotions.  A  wether,  in  particular,  must  have  these 
?iw ural  delights  in  perfection.  Il^r  heart  must  vibrate, 
with  an  exquisite  fondness,  to  the  playful  graces  of  a 
little  offspring,  and  their  continually  unfolding  charm?. 

Rxercise  in  the  open  air,  is  another  great  anuu-ement. 
Fresh  breezes,  variety  of  objects,  gentle  motions,  and 
all  the  charming  pictures  of  nature,  cheer  the  mind,  and 
invigorate  the  spirits.  The  sedentary  life  of  women  is 
the  parent  of  many  fashionable  complaints  ;  weak  nerves, 
low  spirits,  vapours,  hysterics,  languors.  No  constitu- 
tion can  long  withstand  the  bad  effects  of  luxury  and  in- 
action.     Such  people  may  exist,  but  they  cannot  l,ve. 

In  a  rich  entertainment,  Mr.  Addison  saw  fevers, 
dropsies,  gouts  and  rheumatisms  in  embryo.  Who, 
that  looks  at  women,  emaciated  with  midnight  pleasures, 
and  pale  for  want  of  exercise  and  air,  must  not  behold 
the  seeds  of  infinite  disorders,  and  likewise  tremble  for 
the  rising  generation  ? 

The  ancients  paid  a  very  nice  attention  to  the  con- 
stitution of  females.  To  give  them,  in  particular  situa- 
tions, every  degree  of  firmness,  was  not  thought  be- 
neath the  attention  of  those  great  men,  who,  by  their 
eloquence  and  valour,  astonished  the  world. 

Attention  to  a  garden  is  a  truly  feminine  amusement. 
If  vou  mix  it  with  a  taste  for  botany,  and  a  knowledge  of 
plants  and  flowers,  you  will  never  be  in  want  of  an  ex- 
cellent restorative.  Our  first  parents  are  described  by 
Milton,  as  tending  the  shrubs  and  flowers  of  their  para- 
dise, with  unceasing  assiduity,  and  as  rising  with  the 
dawn  to  work  : 

Amongst  sweet  dews  and  flowVs,  where  any  row 

Of  fruit  trees  over  woody,  reach'd  too  far 

Their  pamper'd  boughs,  and  needed  hands  to  check 

Fruitless  embraces,  or  they  lead  the  vine 

To  wed  her  elm 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  1J] 

There  is  an  inexpressible  tranquility  in  a  garden, 
which  soothes  the  spirit  into  that  kind  or'  cheerful  pen- 
siveness,  which  is  perhaps,  the  right  temperature  of  the 
moral  constitution.  Our  Saviour  often  resorted  to  a 
garden.  Innocence  and  piety  found  it  the  happiest 
place  for  meditation  and  repose.  It  is  impossible,  in- 
deed, to  have  a  richer  blessing,  than  a  taste  for  the 
rcncral  beauties  of  nature.  It  is  an  inexhaustible  fund 
of  pleasure  within  every  person's  reachi;  it  purines  and 
refines  the  mind,  and  raises  it  above  the  artificial  gaie- 
ties, which  are  purchased  at  so  great  an  expense  of 
time,  money,  and  often,  of  constitution. 

O  bles'd  of  heav\i,  whom  not  the  languid  songs 

Oflnxury,  the  siren,  nor  the  bribes 

Of  sordid  wealth,  nor  all  the  gaudy  sports 

Of  pageant  honours  can  seduce  to  leave 

These   ever  blooming  sweets,  which,  from  the  store 

Of  Nature,  fair  Imagination  calls 

To  charm  the  enJivenM  soul. 

Thus  the  men. 
Whom  nature's  works  can  charm,  with  God  himself 
Hold  converse,  grow  familiar  day  by  day 
With  his  conceptions,  act  upon  his  plan, 
And  form  to  his  the  relish  of  their  souls. 

B at  friendship,  after  all,  is  the  great  medicine  of  life. 
We  were  born  for  society,  and  the  mind  never  so  ef- 
fectually unburdens  itself,  as  in  the  conversation  of  a 
well  chosen  friend.  Happy  the  woman,  who  finds  such 
a  treasure  !  "It  is  more  precious,  tflan  thousands  of 
gold  or  silver." 

Great  care,  indeed,  judgment,  taste,  and  vigilance  are 
absolutely  necessary  to  direct  you  in  the  choice.  A  strict 
friendship  is  adopting,  as  it  were,  the  sentiments,  the 
manners,  the  morals,  and,  almost  the  happiness  or  mis- 
ery of  others.  Religion  should  guide  you  on  this  oc- 
casion. None  but  a  good  person  is  capable  of  true  at- 
tachment ;  and,  I  trust,  with  you  no  other  would  as- 
similate. If  vou  can  meet  with  such  a  character,  who% 
L 


!22  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

at  the  same  time,  has  a  liberal  and  cultivated  mind,  you 
are  rich  indeed  ! 

Sincere  friendships  are,  more  generally,  formed  at  an 
early  age.  The  heart,  in  this  tender  season,  is  soft  and 
unsuspicious.  It  is  amazing  how  the  little  tumults  of 
life  afterwards  jostle  us  against,  and  put  us  out  of  hu- 
mour and  conceit  with  one  another.  Sensibility  be- 
comes petrified  by  age  and  observation.  Ambition, 
avarice,  and  the  little  paltry  competitions,  freeze  up  the 
generous  current  of  the  soul. 


LETTER  LXXI. 

PUBLIC  pleasures  are  esteemed  and  called  the  a- 
musements  of  women.  But  I  think  them  far  from  an- 
swering the  name.  In  fact  they  agitate,  rather  than  re- 
lieve, and  are  more  frequently  sources  of  vexation,  than 
repose.  Superior  rivals  eclipse  ;  fancied  friends  are  in- 
attentive, and  the  gaiety  of  the  scene  has  no  connexion 
with  quiet  of  the  heart.  The  time,  money,  and  prepar- 
ation they  require,  are  a  serious  consideration,  and  their 
frequency  renders  them  a  business;  instead  of  preserv- 
ing health,  they  undermine  and  destroy  it.  Late  hours, 
hot  rooms,  and  an  agitated  mind,  are  unfavourable  to 
rest ;  and  the  God  of  sleep  will  not  long  be  defrauded 
of  his  rights,  without  retaliating  the  offence. 

What  we  call  pleasure,  is  but  a  splendid  and  voluntary 
service.  If  it  had  not  the  name  of  amusement,  we 
should  shrink  from  it,  as  an  intolerable  burden. 

Who  are  so  great  slaves  as  the  votaries  of  fashion  ? 
What  requires  more  systematical  diligence,  than  the 
watching  of  every  varying  mode  of  dress,  and  "catch- 
ing these  living  manners  as  they  rise  ?" 

Of  all  women,  they  who  call  themselves  fashionable, 
are  the  most  unhappy ;  ever  idly  busy  ;  ever  vainly 
agitated  ;  their  peace  depends  on  a  whisper,  on  a  look, 
or  a  thousand  little  emulations,  too  ridiculous  to  b : 
mentioned  !  They  dread  a  private  moment,  more  than 
an  assassin,  and  with  very  great  reason  ;    they  cannot 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  12^ 

glance  int9  themselves  with  comfort ;  they  cannot  look 
into  eternity  without  hope  !  Reason  suggests,  that  they 
were  born  for  something  higher,  and  there  are  moments 
when  conscience  will  be  heard. 

How  unheeded  a*e  the  cries  and  prattle  of  their  in- 
fants! How  unhappy  must  be  the  man,  who  lias  receiv- 
ed from  such  women,  vows  which  they  will  not  perform, 
of  fi  lelitv,  and  of  attachment ! 

After  all,  it  is  only  in  the  practice  of  virtue  ;  it  is  on- 
ly in  domestic  life,  that  lies  all  the  solid,  because  all 
untumultuour,  joy. 


LETTER  LXXII. 

IT  would  be  uncomfortable  to  yourself  to  live  wholly 
alone  in  the  midst  of  society  ;  and  to  others,  it  would 
carry  the  appearance  of  great  pride*  or  conceit,  or  sin- 
gularity. As  we  were  born  to  be  citizens  of  the  world, 
we  feel  ourselves  uncomfortable  when  we  are  not  in 
the  exchange  of  little  civilities  with  people  about  us  ; 
and  they,  in  their  turn,  contract  unpleasant  piques  and 
prejudices  against  us.  Mixing  with  company  has  cer- 
tainly the  good  effect  of  promoting  benevolence,  aud 
preventing  many  little  shynesses  and  misconstructions. 
Nay,  even  the  highest  and  most  insignificant  conversa- 
tion has  a  tendency  to  relieve  intense  thoughtfulness, 
and  keep  the  mind  from  preying  too  much  upon  itself. 
Tea  parties  are  the  general  mode  of  society  amongst 
ladies.  And  you  must  give  in  to  them,'  in  some  de- 
gree, if  you  will  cultivate  any  acquaintance  with  people 
of  fortune.  Some  of  your  sex  spend  their  time  in  a 
continual  rotation  of  these  visits,  and  have  so  many  pre- 
concerted engagements  on  their  hands,  as  require  a  very 
orderly  arrangement  upon  paper.  But  this  is  a  most 
useless  and  insipid  life  ;  and,  where  there  is  a  family, 
cannot  fail  to  interfere  with  many  duties  of  far  higher 
importance.  The  time,  that  is  taken  up  in  dress  alone, 
and  the  money  it  requires,  are  a  prodigious  sacrifice. 

Nor  in  the  light  of  amusement  alone,  is  this  continual 


l'2-i  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

visiting  to  be  much  recommended.  It  affords  neither 
air  nor  exercise,  and,  frequently,  not  much  agreeable 
or  useful  conversation.  The  generality  of  men  are  so 
much  undomesticatcd,  so  lost  to  every  thing  that  is  in- 
nocent to  taste,  or  natural  in  pleasure,  that  they  are  but 
seldom  to  be  met  with  in  these  parties.  A  group  of 
beautiful  females  are  not  frequently  seen  together,  with-, 
out  one  single  person  of  the  other  sex,  to  share  the  en- 
joyment ;  and  it  is,  I  conceive,  in  mixed  companies  a- 
looe  that  conversation  has  its  proper  interest,  flavour,  of 
improvement. 

Your  visits,  therefore,  I  trust,  will  be  comparatively, 
rare,  and  nicely  selected  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  always 
preserve  yourself  from  the  reproach  that  is  generally 
thrown  on  these  meetings,  as  being  vehicles  of  gossip- 
ing and  scandal.  It  has  been  objected  to  your  sex,  that 
they  are  prone  to  satire*  At  a  certain  age,  and  under 
some  disappointments,  perhaps  this  is  true.  They  have 
been  collecting,  for  many  years,  a  quantity  of  spleen, 
and  imprudently  discharge  it  on  every  person  that  falls 
in  their  way.  This  renders  a  woman  unlovely  indeed. 
Nay,  the  attempt  at  wit,  or  saying  smart  things,  is,  by 
no  means  to  be  encouraged.  True  humour  is  the  lot  of 
[cv;,  and  can  never  be  an  advantage  to  a  woman.  From 
her  we  expect  the  qualities,  that  please,  soothe,  and  en- 
liven. Unfortunately  they,  who  think  themselves  in 
possession  of  this  weapon,  are  brandishing  it  indiscrim- 
inately on  all  occasions,  so  as  sometimes  to  wound  their 
very  nearest  friends,  li  you  could  really  say  the  smart- 
est thing,  you  might  be  feared,  but  you  never  would 
be  loved. 

The  curiosity  *of  women  is  a  proverbial  object  of 
satire,  and  gives  birth  to  all  that  little  gossiping  which 
I  have  reprobated.  Never  convince  the  world,  by  an 
attention  to  mere  trifles,  that  you  have  so  unfurnished 
a  mind,  or  so  little  to  engage  it.  li^^d  Hayley's  truly 
humorous  Essays  on  Old  Maids,  and  blush  at  the  prac- 
tice. Remember  the  fate  of  poor  unhappy  spinster, 
who  caught  her  death  by  her  immoderate  curiosity. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUxNG  LADY  J  Jj 

You  can  surely  find  infinite  subjects  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  an  hour,  without  descending  to  these  littlo 
things.  If  you  cannot,  it  is  high  time  to  give  up  (what 
is  only  called)  amusements,  for  that,  which  is  a  real 
one,  a  walk,  a  ride,  a  book,  a  garden,  or  the  society  of 
a  chosen  friend. 

It  is  astonishing  into  how  many  difficulties  a  woman 
betrays  herself,  who  is  fond  of  this  practice  ;  what 
quarrels,  misconstructions  and  explanations,  what  se- 
cret shyness,  aversions,  mischiefs,  such  banblei  s  create  ; 
what  friends  they  separate,  and  what  a  badge  of  infamy 
they  fix  upon  themselves,  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  .sensible 
i'.nd  the  good  ! 

There  was  a  famous  school  amongst  the  ancients, 
where  the  pupils  spent  several  years  in  learning  the  ve- 
ry necessary  art  of  being  silent.  Remember,  my  dear 
girl,  that  nature  has  given  you  two  ears,  and  only  one 
tongue  ;  and  that  scripture  has  said,  (-  be  swift  to  hear, 
bat  slow  to  3peak." 

LETTER  LXXill. 

CARDS,  which  are  the  inseparable  concomitants  of 
tea  visits,  and  introduced  as  soon  as  persons  aie  well 
seated  in  company,  are  a  very  equivocal  pleasure,  and, 
by  no  inea-jr,  to  be  much  recoTi  mended.  Little  habits 
insensibly  beget  a  pamen  for  il-.i  m  ;  and  a  passion  for 
cards,  murders  time.,  money,  talents,  understanding, 
every  thing  that  is  rational  in  our  nature,  and  every 
thing  that  is  divine. 

If  experience  did  not  convince  us  of  the  fact,  one 
should  never  have  imagined,  that  a  reasmable  creature 
would  ever  have  been  able  to  consume  hours,  days, 
weeks,  months,  years,  in  counting  over  the  black  and  red 
spots  upon  paper,  and  chikiishly  to  quarrel  about  their 
success  — a  creature,  who  has  an  understanding,  that  is 
capable  of  improvement,  to  an  infinite  degree  !  a  crea- 
ture, living  in  a  world,  where  knowledge  is  immense^ 

.  every  iiower  or  shrub  a  subject  of  ajstonisrujaeiii  -• 


t26  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

who  has  a  temper,  that  requires  continual  watchfulnesa  ; 
a  soul  that  needs  unremitting  cultivation  ;  perhaps  chil- 
dren, that  call  for  incessant  instruction  ;  amidst  objects 
of  distress,  for  which  heaven  begs  each  superfluous  pen- 
ny, and  in  a  body,  that  may,  any  moment,  drop  into  the 
grave  ! 

I  will  advert,  no  longer,  on  the  moral  consequences. 
A  woman,  who  has  a  wish  only  to  please,  should  not  be 
much  addicted  to  this  practice.  It  is  very  apt  to  ruffle 
the  temper,  and  discompose  the  features  ;  and  a  sour  or 
an  angry  look  is  more  destructive  to  female  charms,  than 
an  high  scorbutic  flush,  or  the  small-pox. 

It  is  said  in  favor  of  cards,  that  they  prevent  scandal \ 
and  are  a  substitute  to  many,  for  the  want  of  conversa- 
tion. This  conveys  a  severe  stigma  both  on  our  hearts 
and  understanding.  It  supposes,  that  we  have  few 
stores  of  entertainment  xvithin  ourselves  ;  and  that  the 
only  way  to  avoid  a  greater  crime,  is  to  fall  into  a  less. 
Our  moments,  I  fear,  will  not  bear  the  scrutiny  of  con- 
science or  reason,  much  less  of  the  great  day,  if  we  can- 
aot  contrive  to  spend  them  in  an  innocent  and  useful 
manner,  without  the  low  resource  of  either  scandal  or 
play  ! 


LETTER  LXXIV. 

THE  defenders  of  cards,  however,  will  say  nothings 
in  favor  of  gaming.  No  fortune,  they  know,  is  equal  to 
its  extravagant  demands.  An  unlucky  throw  loses, 
thousands  in  a  moment.  It  has  reduced  the  most  opu- 
lent families  to  indigence  ;  it  has  led  some  to  forger)', 
and  an  ignominious  death  ;  others,  whose  pride  would 
not  brook,  the  degradation,  to  the  fatal  act  of  suicide  ; 
at  best  it  has  plunged  into  poverty  and  distress,  many 
heirs  of  honorable  and  itlastrious  houses,  who  wer^ 
born,  in  all  appearance  to  happier  days. 

Your  moderate  card  players  (as  they  call  themselves,) 
have  often  wondered,  what  can  tempt  people  of  fortune 
to  such  a  dreadful  and  ruiaous.  amusement  as  that  o£ 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LAD/.  127 

gaming.  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  this  shocking  prac- 
tice is  nothing  more,  than  the  spirit  of  card  playing,  car- 
ried to  its  extreme  :  that  equal  temptations  would  pro- 
bably have  led  them  to  the  very  same  imprudence  ;  that 
they  both,  generally,  originate  in  the  same  principle, 
(the  want  of  something  substantial  to  fill  and  exercise 
the  mind,)  and  are  only  an  artificial  method  of  destroy- 
ing that  ennui  and  languor,  which  are  the  most  insup- 
portable feelings  of  human  life  ;  and  that  the  cure  of 
both  must,  equally,  spring  from  solid  knowledge  and 
from  solid  virtue. 

Though  gaming,  at  first ',  rises  from  no  worse  a  prin- 
ciple, than  a  want  of  amusement,  or  of  having  some- 
thing to  call  the  passions  into  exercise,  yet,  in  its  conse- 
quences it  has  a  tendency  to.  eradicate  every  religious 
and  moral  disposition,  every  social  duty,  every  lauda- 
ble and  virtuous  affection.  It  renders  the  mind  selfish 
in  the  extreme,  and  callous  to  the  touch  of  woe,  in  eve*- 
ry  shape  ;  whilst  it  stops  up  the  sluices  of  charity,  it  ex- 
tinguishes the  inclination  for  it  ;  it  is  deaf  to  every  call 
of  friendship  or  of  prudence..  There  can  be  no  such 
thing,  as  an  attentive  parent,  mother,  wife,  brother,  sis- 
ter or  a  sympathizing  heart,  where  this  infernal  rage  has 
possession  of  the  soul.  Every  thing  else  is  swallowed 
up  in  the  all-devouring  vortex.  A  Gamester  would  stake 
the  last  thousand  on  a  throw,  though  a  prison  for  her 
husband,  rags  for  her  children,  or  a  gallows  for  her  near- 
est  friend,  were  the  melancholy  prospect  ! 

If  you  disbelieve  this  reasoning,  look  into  life.  What* 
effects  has  this  passion  gradually  produced  on  women, 
who  had  once  hearts  full  of  tenderness  and  virtue,  and 
were  affected  with  every  appearance  of  distress  ;  who 
had  from  nature,  every  refinement  of  taste,  and  every, 
elegance  of  manners  to  captivate  and  charm  ? 

If  it  were  not  invidious,  I  could  produce  many  living* 
characters  to  support  my  assertions.  They  would  make 
a  dismal  picture,  and  the  motto  would  be,  4»  beware  of 
beginnings." 


128  LF.TTEHSTO   A   YOUNG  LADY. 

Though  1  abhor  novtls,  yet,  perhaps,  the  celebrated 
one  of  Cecilia  is  worth  reading.,  if  it  was  only  to  guard 
our  fashionable  ladies  from  splitting  on  the  dreadful 
rock  of  the  Harrds.  JMany  characters,  in  that  book, 
are  overstrained  ;  but  this  is  borrowed  from  real  life, 
aad  daily  observation. 


LETTER  LXXV. 

h  \Y  down  a  little  plan  for  yourself,  and  all  your 
studies,  exercises  and  employments  will  be  easy  and 
practicable.  You  will  have  time  for  every  thing  !  and 
\  ou  will  never  seem  in  a  hurry  or  emb&Prasfetk 

Qrden  is  the  first  law  of  nature,  and  of  nature's  God. 
The  moon,  stars  and  tide  vary  not  a  moment,  and  the 
sun  knoweth  the  u  hour  of  its  going  down." 

Without  order,  a  thousand  things  will  be  improperly 
delayed,  or  wholly  neglected.  Whilst  we  are  hesitat- 
ing where  to  begin,  or  what  to  do,  hours  fly  away,  in- 
sensibly, never  to  return  ! 

If  every  thing  koows  its  place,  vou  will  escape  the 
los3  of  many,  valuable  moments,  and  the  anxiety  of  as 
many  unprofitable  searches.  Exactness  is,  by  no  means, 
the  necessary  appendage  of  an  old  maid. 

Order  is  the  very  parent  of  tranquility.  A  person 
is  always  easy,  whose  affairs  are,  always,  in  a  regular 
arrangement.  At  the  same  time,  let  the  mechanism  of 
your  process  be  invisible.  The  perfection  of  art,  you 
know,  is  to  conceal  it. 

Be  always  ready  to  receive  your  friends  with  an  open 
countenance,  and  a  cheerful  heart.  Society  and  con- 
nexion have  claims  upon  us,  to  which  we  should  sacri- 
fice every  selfish  consideration. 

If  you  are  an  early  riser,  you  may  find  time  for  every 
thiftg.  It  is  amazing  how  much  is  gained  by  lopping 
off  an  hour  or  two,  from  indulgence  in  the  morning. — 
Nor  is  the  mere  saving  of  time  the  only  advantage. — 
Our  spirits  are  more  lively,  and  our  faculties  are  m 
awake. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  129 

I  do  not  know  a  practice,  which  I  should  more  re- 
commend, whether  devotion,  health,  beauty,  or  im- 
provement of  the  mind,  were  the  objects  in  view.  How 
cheerful  and  how  animated  are  the  meditations  of  the 
morning  !  what  a  delightful  bloom  flushes  into  the 
cheeks  from  its  balmy  exhalations  !  What  an  unspeak- 
able cheerfulness  glides  iato  the  soul  from  hearing  the 
devotional  matins  of  the  lark,  and  from  beholding  the 
new-born  scenery  of  nature  !  How  necessary  is  such  a 
regimen  to  preserve  that  sweetness  of  complexion,  and 
of  breath,  which  are  the  very  essence  and  perfume  of 
beauty  !  When  people  think  of  accounting  to  God  for 
the  talents  they  have  received,  they  overlook  the  hours 
which  are  lost  in  morning  sloth,  and  unreasonable  indul- 
gence. 

I  have  inured  myself,  for  many  years,  to  this  habit  of 
early  rising,  'in  the  spring  months  of  April  and  May, 
particularly,  I  grudge  every  moment  that  is  wasted  af- 
ter five.  I  consider  it  as  a  rude  neglect  of  all  those 
sweets,  which  opened  to  s.nlute  me.  A-nd  I  always  find 
so  much  more  deducted  from  the  firmness  of  my  health, 
and  the  vigour  of  my  understanding. 


LETTER  LXXVI. 

I   HAVE   indeed,  as  you  say,  frequently  dwelt  with 

pleasure  on  Miss* Louisa  ,  and   do  think   her   a 

charming  woman.  She  always  stru  :k  me  as  possess- 
ing, in  a  superior  degree,  those  qualities  which  consti- 
tute the  graceful  and  attractive,  and  therefore  as  a  very- 
proper  pattern  to  all  young  people.  Not  that  I  think  a 
servile  imitation  of  any  original,  however  excellent, 
would  render  another  pleading.  Nature  no  more  in- 
tended any  two  persons  to  have  precisely  the  same  man* 
Tier,  than  the  same  eyes  or  features,  or  complexion.  But 
still  a  familiar  intimacy  with  such  a  woman  must  insen- 
sibly communicate  some  traits  of  resemblance,  which 
by  incorporating  wi'h  the  general  mass  of  a  character, 
will  form  a  beautiful  and  consistent  whole. 


I  TO  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

Though  I  have  always  admired  her  only  hi  ths  grots, 
and  was  charmed,  without  considering  the  constuuent 
principles  of  her  excellence,  I  will,  as  you  request  it,  en- 
deavor to  analyze  and  trace  them  to  their  source. 

Her  person  is  rathsr  gcnleely  than  beautiful,  so  that 
she  is  more  indebted  to  herself,  than  to  nature,  for  her 
attractions.  And  a  wonderful  energy  indeed  they  have. 
For  I  have  often  seen  this  girl  steal  the  notice  of  the 
whole  company  from  others  of  her  sex,  who  were  infi- 
nitely more  distinguished  by  the  beauty  of  their  persons, 
as  well  as  the  advantage  of  birth  and  fortune. 

The  ground  work  of  ail  her  charms  is  (what  I  cannot 
call  by  a  better  name  than  that  of)  simplicity  ;  an  art- 
less, undesigning,  unstudied  manner,  flowing  from  an  in- 
innocent  and  virtuous  heart,  which  never  seeks  conceal* 
merit y  as  having  indeed  nothing  to  conceal.  Louisa  nev- 
er affects  to  be  any  thing,  but  what  she  is.  She  does 
not  exalt  herself  above  measure,  nor  ever  ridiculously 
degrades  herself,  in  order  to  be  exalted.  Her  gestures, 
attitude,  voice,  pronunciation,  are  all  under  the  imme- 
diate impression  and  guidance  of  nature.  Louisa  ex- 
presses an  innocent  pleasure,  because  she  feels  it  in  the 
company  of  sensible  and  agreeable  men,  and  yet  never 
seeks  it  with  an  improper  avidity.  She  never  harrangues 
upon,  or  vaunts  a  superior  sensibility,  but  frequently 
displays  no  inconsiderable  share  of  it,  by  involuntary  e- 
motions.  She  never,  in  any  respect,  affects  connexions, 
appearance,  or  any  thing  above  her  fortune,  nor  endeav- 
ors to  shine  at  the  expence  of  others. 

This,  though  very  imperfectly  described,  is,  accord- 
ing to  my  idea,  the  first  excellence  in  the  character  of 
this  lady.  It  is  the  very  reverse  of  that  absurd  affecta- 
tion, which,  by  assuming  a  thousand  fanciful  shapes, 
renders  graces  unlovely,  and  even  beauty  disgusting- 
Louisa  charms  every  person,  because  she  is  always  ami- 
able and  obliging,  without  studying  to  charm.  Her 
face  is  always  welcome  in  company,  though  she  throws 
no,  artificial  lightning  into  her  eyes,  softness  into  her 
features,  r\or  lisping  into  her  articulation. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  Ul 

The  common  systematic  education  of  girls  is  unfavor- 
able to  this  simplicity.  The  tendency  of  modern  culture 
is  to  raise  art  upon  the  ruins  of  nature.  Such  a  method 
would  not  succeed  in  any  thing  else,  and  how  should  it 
;n  the  treatment  of  women  ?  If  there  be  one  object  in 
the  world,  more  disgusting  than  all  others,  it  is  a  girl, 
whom  nature  formed  to  be  innocent  and  artless,  reduc- 
ing affectation  and  disguise  to  a  system. 

It  is  with  simplicity  of  manner,  as  it  is  with  ease  of 
style,  in  a  writer.  VVhen  we  read  his  works,  it  appears 
the  most  easy  attainment  imaginable  ;  but,  in  fact,  no- 
thing is  so  uncommon,  either  in  conduct  or  in  writings. 
And  the  reason  must  be,  that,  instead  of  attending  to 
the  guidance  of  nature,  people  make  an  extraordinary 
effort  to  be  something  great,  or  superior,  and  uncom- 
mon. Simplicity  may  be  styled  the  easy  and  the  grace- 
ful negligence  of  conduct  ;  yet,  as  in  dress,  it  charms 
more  than  the  most  elaborate  ornaments. 

Through  all  the  wonderful  works  of  God,  there  is  a 
majestic  simplicity.  Nature  knows  no  affectation.  Her 
prospects,  hills,  vallies,  alcoves,  grottos,  are  all  unstudi- 
ed ;  her  magnificence  is  wild  and  artless.  1  here  is  a 
simplicity  of  design  and  effect  in  all  her  wonders,  in  the 
construction  and  revolution  of  planets,  in  the  flow  and 
ebbing  of  the  tides,  and  in  the  vomiting  of  immense 
volcanos.  The  carnation  never  aims  at  the  stately  mag- 
nificence of  the  ostentatious  hoary  oak.  Every  rose  is 
content  with  its  own  natural  hues  and  odours  ;  and  af- 
fects not  the  elegant  sweetness  of  the  Reseda,  (mini- 
onette.) 

Nature  is  the  standard  of  perfection.  Every  charac- 
ter and  every  art  is  only  so  tar  finished,  as  it  approaches 
to  her  likeness.  No  paintings  are  beautiful  without 
this  ground-work  of  simplicity,  it  charms  in  a  Correg- 
gio.  It  was  the  excellence  of  a  Raphael.  It  lives  in 
the  exquisite  touches  of  a  Reynolds. 

The  beauty  of  all  writing  is  founded  ia  simplicity. 
It  was  with  Homer,  Virgil,  and  Milton,  when  they 
Sketched  out  their  inimitable  poems.     Of  Shakespeare 


132  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

it  was  the  very  soul.  Statuaries,  sculptors,  architects, 
have  only  gained  an  extensive  reputation,  in  proportion 
as  they  have  studied  this  divine  simplicity. 

No  woman  can  be  graceful  without  it.  It  will  go 
further,  in  the  art  of  pleasing,  without  any  accomplish- 
ments, than  all  the  accomplishments  will  go,  without  it. 

LETTER  LXXVII. 

ANOTHER  striking  quality  in  Louisa, vs  her  con- 
stant cheerfulness.  Though  few  women  iri  the  world 
are  more  serious  or  thoughtful,  where  any  solid  duties 
are  concerned,  where  the  health,  peace,  comfort,  con- 
venience of  her  friends  and  parents,  or  any  domestic  at- 
tentions are  at  stake,  and  though  she  is  possessed  of 
such  an  exquisite  sensibility,  as  is  apt  to  produce  an 
unevenness  of  spirits  ;  yet,  whenever  I  see  this  lovely 
girl,  she  always  beguiles  me  into  a  temporary  cheerful- 
ness, by  the  force  of  her  own.  This  gaiety  of  heart, 
equally  removed  from  a  thoughtless  levity  or  a  moping 
gloom,  is  a  most  desirable  quality  in  women.  Men  are 
perplexed  with  various  anxieties  of  business  and  ambi- 
tion, and  are  naturally  more  thoughtful,  profound,  an! 
melancholy  ;  women  certainly  were  formed  to  soothe  and 
to  enliven*  It  is  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  we  derive 
from  their  society,  and  from  the  most  sacred  of  all  con- 
nexions. 

Cheerfulness  (saith  the  wise  man)  doeth  good,  like  a 
medicine.  It  has  a  wonderful  effect  on  all  the  finer  or- 
gans of  the  body.  If  it  was  not  for  little  innocent  sallies 
of  this  kind,  it  would  be  impossible  to  bear  severe  ap- 
plication. The  year  would  be  insupportable,  if  it  was 
wholly  composed  of  the  dark  and  gloomy  days  of  No- 
vember. 

There  are  many  unavoidable  ill*,  sicknesses  and  mis- 
fortunes in  human  life,  which  will  come  uncalled  to  de- 
ject our  spirits,  and  poison  o*ur  repose  ;  but  we  should 
not  anticipate  them  by  gloomy  apprehensions,  nor  ever 
suffer  an  unnecessary  melancholy  to  :>it  upon  our  looks* 


LL ITERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  133 

It  is  the  truest  policy  to  be  innocently  gay  and  cheerful, 
whilst  we  can*  It  forbids  the  approach  of  wrinkles,  and 
adds  many  years  to  the  little  fleeting  span  of  human 
life*  Some  pietists  have  encouraged  gloom  by  their  er- 
roneous notions  of  the  Deity,  and  of  christian  self-deni- 
al. But  I  should  strongly  suspect  their  goodness,  or 
their  judgment.  If  any  thing  can  make  a  person  truly 
cheerful,  it  should  be  a  good  conscience.  And  true  reli- 
gion is  doubly  charming,  when  it  wears  a  smile. 

A  melancholy  countenance  is  by  no  means  feminine. 
It  is  as  remote  from- the  true  point  of  gracefulness,  in 
the  sex,  as  ill-natured  wit,  or  ironical  pertness. 


LKTTER  LXXVIII. 

THOUGH  Louisa  is  the  most  remote  bom  prudery) 
X>t  any  woman  I  know,  easy  and  accessible  to  the  other 
sex,  and  cheerful,  lively  and  unconstrained,  in  her  con- 
versation with  them,  yet  she  has  really  so  great  a  share 
of  true,  female  delicacy,  that  the  most  licentious  man 
living  would  not  dare  to  use  a  double  entendre  in  her 
company,  or  give  the  conversation  an  improper  turn- 
Nor  is  it,  that  she  has  reduced  rules  of  propriety  to  a 
system.  She  has  really  a  native  feeling,  which  vibrates 
to  the  most  distant  touch  of  what  is  proper  and  becom- 
ing, and  would  tremble,  like  the  sensitive  plant,  where 
any  thing,  that  could  stain  the  delicacy  of  her  mind,  was 
conveyed  in  the  most  distant  allusion. 

Fashionable  manners  have  been  long  attempting  to 
banish  delicacy,  as  a  sort  of  incumbrance  ;  but  no  wo- 
man will  ever  long  be  lovely  without  it.  Let  France  or 
Italy  do  what  they  will,  it  is  that  sacred  fence,  which 
is  never  broken  down,  without  melancholy  consequenc- 
es. Delicacy  is  a  very  general  and  comprehensive  quality. 
Conversation,  books,  pictures,  attitude,  gesture,  pro- 
nunciation, should  all  be  under  its  salutary  restraints. 
If  a  girl  ever  loses  it,  farewel,  a  long  farewel  to  all  her 
greatness  !  If  this  "  salt  have  lost  its  savour,  wherewith 
shall  it  be  seasoned  ?" 
M 


1  34-  LT.TTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

How  unfit  are  many  parents  to  educate  a  daughter  ! 
M'hat  injudicious  pleasantries  do  they  sometimes  use, 
even  in  their  presence  !  A  girl  should  hear,  she  should 
see,  nothing,  that  can  call  forth  a  blush,  or  even  stain 
the  purity  of  her  mind. 

Another  distinguishing  grace  of  Louisa,  is  softness. 
She  is  (what  nature  intended  her  to  be)  wholly  a  woman. 
She  has  a  quality,  that  is  the  direct  opposite  to  mcuili* 
ness  and  vigour.  Her  voice  is  gemle  ;  her  pronuncia- 
tion delicate  ;  her  passions  are  never  sulfered  to  be 
boisterous  :  she  never  talks  politics  :  she  never  foams 
"with  anger  :  she  is  seldom  seen  in  any  masculine  amuse- 
ments :  she  does  not  practice  archery.  I  will  venture 
to  prophesy,  that  she  will  never  canvass  for  votes  at  an 
election.  I  never  saw  her  in  an  unfemininc  dress,  or 
her  features  discomposed  with  play.  She  really  trem- 
bles with  the  apprehension  of  danger.  She  feels,  unaf- 
fectedly, for  every  person  exposed  to  it.  A  friend  leav- 
ing her  father's  house,  only  for  a  short  time,  calls  forth 
her  concern.  The  farewel  tear  stands  big  in  its  trans- 
parent sluice.  And  whenever  he  returns,  the  easy,  un- 
dissembled  smile  testifies  her  joy.  She  displays  more 
sympathy  for  the  indisposition  of  a  servant,  than  some 
do  for  the  death  of  their  nearest  friends. 

Of  all  the  women  I  ever  saw,  Louisa  has  the  most 
universal  and  indiscriminate  affability.  She  never 
meets  any  poor  persons  in  her  neighbourhood,  without 
entering  into  a  very  minute  inquiry  about  the  health  of 
their  children,  family  and  friends  ;  and  the  villagers  re- 
vere  her.  They  know  that  she  is  constantly  planning 
for  them  some  assistance  and  relief. 

Little  minds  endeavor  to  support  a  consequence  by 
distance  and  hauteur.  But  this  is  a  mistake.  True 
dignity  arises  from  condescension,  and  is  supported  by 
noble  actions. 

Superciliousness  is  almost  a  certain  mark  of  low  birth, 
and  ill  breeding.  People,  who  have  just  emerged  into 
greatness,  think  it  necessary  to  maintain  their  superior- 
ity by  a  proud  look  and  high  stomach.  1  he  cense* 
quence  is  general  hatred  and  contempt. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG   LADY  ,  13.} 

In  fact  this  proud,  high-bearing  reserve,  is  a  very 
great  crime.  Every  person,  that  bears  the  image  oi 
his  Maker,  is  entitled  to  oar  attentions,  and  indeed  our 
benevolence.  Inferiority  is,  oi  itself,  a  sufficient  bur- 
den, without  our  endeavouring  to  aggravate  it  by  ill— 
nature  or  neglect. 

I  have  otten  heard  Louisa  dwell,  with  rapture,  on  the 
entertainment  and  edification  she  has  received  in  many 
cottages  when  she  has  been  carrying  clothing,  cordials 
or  money  to  the  distressed  inhabitants  ;  and  tell  me 
which  is  the.  more  dignified  character,  a  woman  who 
would  turn  from  her  poor  neighbours  with  disdain,  or 
one,  who  for  her  kindness  and  attention  to  them,  is 
praised,  as  ofien  as  her  name  is  mentioned,  and  follow- 
ed, whithersoever  &he  moveth,  with  their  tears  and  with 
their  blessings  ? 

There  is  nut  a  greater  charm  in  any  character,  than  such 
a  condescension.  A  woman,  thus  forgetting  all  her  dis- 
tinctions, to  sympathize  with  the  unfortunate,  must  cap- 
tivate every  man,  who  has  either  a  single  grain  of  piety 
or  understanding.  Even  the  plainest  face  would  be  for- 
gotten in  such  real  and  unaffected  goodness. 

The  manner  of  Louisa  finishes  her  character.  It  is  a 
beautiful  bordering  to  all  her  graces  and  her  virtues.  It 
is  impossible  for  me  to  define  (what  I  mean  by)  man- 
ner ;  yet  no  one  can  be  half  an  hour  in  the  company  of 
ihis  lady,  without  feeling  its  astonishing  effects.  Though 
she  frequently  says  nothing,  but  what  might  have  drop- 
ped from  any  other  person,  yet  in  her  it  becomes  so  ve- 
ry interesting,  as  to  command  attention,  and  even  to  de- 
light. She  embellishes,  in  a  wonderful  manner,  a  look, 
a  gesture,  an  attitude — nay  even  silence  itself.  She 
confers  a  grace  on  the  most  common  civility.  She  heigh- 
tens every  favour  by  the  mode  of  doing  it,  and  she  o- 
bliges,  almost,  by  refusal. 

The  best  definition  I  can  give  of  this  quality  must  be 
imperfect.  I  should  call  it,  however,  a  quick  discern- 
ment of  what  is  graceful,  directed  by  an  exquisite  sen- 
sibility, and  saying  in  an  instant,  to  airs,  gestures,  fea- 


<S6  iETTERS  TO.  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

tures,  locks,  come  with  corresponding  energy,  and  thev 
'•'  come."  No  rules  can  be  laid  down  for  its  attain- 
ment. Nature  must  have  been  propitious,  where  it  is 
seen  in  any  high  perfection. 

Manner  is  more  engaging,  than  the  most  finished 
beauty.  The  latter  is  an  agreeable  prospect,  that  soon 
grows  insipid,  and  fatigues  by  uniformity.  The  first  is 
a  continual  change  of  country,  with  landscapes  ever 
new,  interesting  and  delicious. 


LETTER  LXXIX. 

THE  father  of  Louisa  is  one  of  the  most  worthy 
clergymen  I  ever  knew,  and  has  long  lived  in  my  es- 
teem. He  married,  early  in  life,  a. woman  of  consider- 
able beauty  and  fortune,  but  infinitely  more  distinguish- 
ed by  her  piety  and  understanding.  He  has  learning 
End  goodness  enough  to  have  graced  the  highest  sta- 
tions in  the  church  :  but  he  suffers  not  ambition  to  dis- 
turb his  tranquility,  and  prefers  the  silent  pleasures  of 
vetirement  to  all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  a  court.  He 

is  rector  of  a  small  parish  in  the  county  of ,  and 

has  such  a  pastoral  tenderness  and  affection  for  his  flock 
that  I  do  not  think  he  would  be  tempted  to  leave  them 
for  anv  temporal  considerations  whatsoever.  u  I  would 
not  resign  (he  has  frequently  said  to  me)  the  fragrant 
shrubs  and  plants  that  encircle  this  little  cot,  for  the 
most  enviable  promotions  ;  nor  should  the  tumults  and 
r.nxieties  of  the  highest  station  deprive  me  of  those  do- 
mestic endearments,  which  affer  all  its  bewitching  Gaie- 
ty and  bustle,  are  the  onlv  real  sweetners  of  life.  What 
could  equal  the  heart- ft  It  joys  I  derive  from  the  fond 
and  ever  growing  attachment  of  my  Harriet,  or 
the  pleasure  of  watching  the  conrinuallv  expanding 
graces  and  improvement  of  my  lovely  girl  V* 

It  has,  long,  been  my  private  opinion,  that  a  prood 
clergyman  is  more  likely  to  have  a  dutiful  and  affec- 
tionate family,  than  ff  person  of  almost  any  other  char- 
acter. And  I  am  not  a  little  confirmed  in  it  by  the  in- 
stance before  us. 


l.KTTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  13T 

Whoever  sees  this  happy  pair,  is  delighted  with  that 
mutual  esteem  and  fondness,  which  revolving  years 
have  not  been  able  to  diminish,  but  only  to  mature  ;  and 
must  form  a  very  high  idea  of  that  union,  which  the  li- 
centious only  endeavor  to  ridicule,  because  they  have 
not  taste  and  innocence  enough  for  its  unpurchased  And 
refined  sweets.  I  have  lately  spent  a  few  (lavs  with 
this  amiable  group,  and  returned,  quite  disgusted  with 
my  own  situation.  It  appeared  uncommonly  solitary 
and  insipid,  I  began  to  blame  my  books,  as  the  obsta- 
cle of  my  felicity,  and  to  ask  philosophy  and  cold-heart- 
ed prudence,  what  joy  they  had  to  boast,  if  compared 
with  these  natural  transports  of  the  scul. 

Fortunately  for  my  friend,  a  comfortable,  paternal 
fortune,  in  conjunction  with  that,  which  he  received 
with  his  lady,  has  placed  him  in  very  easy,  and  rather 
affluent,  circumstances.  Providence  has  crowned  their 
virtuous  friendship  only  with  Louisa  ;  but  indeed  in 
her  alone,  has  rained  down  a* profusion  of  its  blessings. 
In  her,  therefore,  all  their  cares  and  anxieties  concen- 
ter ;  and  her  education,  you  may  well  suppose,  ha3  not 
been  neglected. 

Her  parents  are  both  averse  to  boarding  schools,  as 
inspiring  a  young  person  with  improper  notions,  an  I 
undermining  the  taste  for  pure  simplicity  and  domestic 
worth.  She  has,  therefore,  been  always  kept  under 
their  own,  immediate  inspection  ;  but  her  hours  are  as 
strictly  arranged,  as  they  could  have  been,  at  any  school, 
into  a  regular  plan  of  employment.  She  has  allotted 
intervals  for  domestic  duties,  needle-work,  reading,  cor- 
respondence, exercise  and  recreation  ;  and  every  hour 
knows  its  particular  engagement. 

She  opens  every  morning,  and  closes  every  day  with 
an  hymn  of  praise  to  her  bountiful  Creator,  which  is 
chanted  to  the  harpsichord,  with  so  sweet  a  voice,  as  I. 
cannot  even  at  this  distance  of  time,  recollect  without 
emotion. 

If  you  saw  the  bccUi\\(\.i\fanci/-zvorky  which  has  been- 
wr.ought  by  this  girl,  in  carpets,  baskets  of  flowers,  ejXb 


138  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

broidery,  &c.  you  would  imagine,  that  she  could  have 
but  little  leisure  for  the  improvement  of  her  understand- 
ing. But  a  strict  economy  of  time,  an  invariable  adher- 
ence to  order,  and  an  habit  of  early  rising  have  enabled 
her  to  do  wonders.  Her  father  superintend!  that  pait 
of  her  education,  which  is  connected  with  books  ;  and 
has  such  an  happy  method  of  conveying  his  ideas  as 
wonderfully  mixes  instruction  with  delight. 

Natural  history  and  botany,  on  fine  days,  they  study 
in  the  Jields  ;  and  when  the  weather  is  less  favourable, 
she  has  such  a  collection  of  animals,  insects,  and  other 
cuiiosities  as  would  adorn  the  museum  of  a  connoiseur. 
This  is  called  her  grotto  ;  and  is  placed  in  a  shady  part 
of  the  garden,  over-arched  with  an  alcove  of  entwined 
elms. 

History,  in  the  hands  of  her  able  instructor,  becomes 
a  fund  of  unspeakable  improvement.  When  events  are 
recorded,  she  is  asked  what  causes  gave  them  birth  ; 
what  instruments  were  made  use  of  for  their  comple- 
tion, and  what  traces  she  can  discover,  of  a  wonderful 
and  an  all-wise  Providence,  governing  the  whole. 

Geography  and  chronology  are  inseparable  guides 
consulted  on  the  occasion  ;  and  when  characters  are  de- 
scribed, she  is  interrogated  concerning  the  praise-wor- 
thy or  the  reprehensible ,  in  them  ;  where  the  historian 
has  been  so  sparing  of  his  praise,  or  extolled  beyond  the 
)  »und3  of  reason  and  of  truth.  Her  sentiments,  on  all 
these  subjects,  are  given,  in  her  own  language,  upon  pa«. 
per  ;  and  afterwards  corrected  by  the  mature  judgment 
critical  taste  of  her  incomparable  tutor. 

On  Sundays,  she  prepares  a  concise  abridgment  of  the 
sermon,  which  undergoes  the  same  rigid  examination  ; 
and  she  has  a  little  volume,  filled  with  such  sacred  re- 
flections, as  would  not. dishonor  the  understanding,  or 
the  repository  of  a  professed  divine. 

You  would  suppose  from  this  account,  that  Louisa 
would  appear  (what  the  world  calls,)  a  very  Lamed  wo- 
man. No  such  thing.  In  a  mixed  company,  you  would 
not  discern,  that  she  possessed  any  superior  knowledge 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  139 

or  advantage  over  her  sex,  except  in  an  eh -gant  mode  of 
expression.  She  enters  into  other  people's  views,  feel- 
ings, interests  and  concerns,  with  a  politeness,  that  very 
few  possess  ;  and  converses  with  all  her  country  neigh- 
bors, on  such  easy  terms,  as  banish  every  unpleasant 
feeling  of  distance  or  restraint. 

The  heart  of  this  lovely  girl  is,  all  over  sympathy  and 
softness.  The  big  tear  trembles  in  her  eye,  on  every 
trj  ing  occasion  ;  and  in  her  closet,  along  with  a  small, 
but  well  chosen  collection  of  books,  she  has  a  little  box, 
v>iih  this  inscription,  "  sacred  to  the  poor."  Into  this, 
she  puts,  every  night,  before  she  sleeps,  something  to 
be  a  fund  for  merit  and  distress.  She  enriches  it  with 
the  savings  she  has  made,  by  retrenching  some  expen- 
sive articles  of  dress  or  pleasure.  It  is  filled  with  mo- 
ney, that  others  would  have  spent  on  plays,  concerts  or 
assemblies  ;  and  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  she  has  in- 
finitely sweeter  music  in  her  heart,  and  a  more  innocent, 
sparkling  brilliance  in  her  eyes,  than  any  of  the  most 
admired  frequenters  of  those  gay  amusements. 


LETTER  LXXX. 

FRO  INI  Louisa's  strict  confinement  and  systematic 
life  you  would  conclude,  perhaps,  that  she  had  almost 
contracted  a  disrelish  for  books.  But,  indeed,  it  is  far 
otherwise  ;  her  studies  are  her  pleasure  ;  they  are  so 
judiciously  mixed  with  entertainment,  and  so  interwo- 
ven, as  it  were,  with  the  common  casual  occurrences  of 
the  day,  that  she  considers  them  more  as  anamusem??ity 
than  a  business.  Her  private  moments,  when  she  is  left 
to  her  own  choice,  are  not  unfrequently  beguiled  with 
the  very  same  employments,  which  had  engrossed  the 
other  parts  of  the  day. 

The  garden  is  the  scene,  where  she  indulges  all  the 
luxury  ol  her  taste  ;  and  her  rambles  into  it  are  as  fre- 
quent, as  the  great  variety  of  her  avocations  will  per- 
mit. Oneday,  I  found  her  in  this  retirement.  The 
place  WjMrrery  happily  fancied.    Large  clumps  of  trees^ 


140  LETTLR9    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

on  both  sides,  with  their  intervening  foliage,  had  ren- 
dered it  impervious  to  any  human  eye.  Nature  had 
wantoned  with  particular  luxuriance.  A  clear  trans- 
parent spring  murmured  through  the  valley.  And  it 
was  fenced,  on  both  sides,  with  a  very  lofty  mound,  cast 
up  as  on  purpose,  and  planted  with  perennial  shrubs. 
A  shady  arbor  in  the  middle,  catching  through  a  beauti- 
ful vista,  the  spire  of  the  village  church,  invited  to  med- 
itation and  to  repose.  She  was  reclined  here  rather  in  a 
pensive  attitude,  reading  Burke's  Essays  on  the  Beauti- 
ful and  sublime  ;  and  to  me  she  appeared,  I  must  con- 
fess, more  enchanting,  more  beautiful  and  more  sublime  % 
than  the  admired  work  of  that  well  known  and  admired 
author. 

On  another  occasion,  her  mother  being  much  indis- 
posed, she  had  stolen  from  the  domestic  circle,  to  in- 
dulge, at  leisure,  a  solitary  grief.  The  book  she  held 
in  her  hand  was  Lord  Lyttleton's  Dialogues  of  the 
Dead.  The  soft  melancholy  visible  in  her  countenance, 
the  very  apparent  agitation  of  her  spirits,  and  the  grief, 
bursting  through  her  animated  eyes,  formed  a  very  in- 
teresting whole  ;  whilst  her  observations  on  a  future 
life,  on  the  comfort  she  derived  from  the  hope  of  con- 
versing with  her  friends  after  death  ;  on  the  probable 
nature  and  happiness  of  heaven,  and  the  permanency  of 
virtuous  friendship  and  affection,  would  not  have  dis- 
graced any  divine  or  philosopher  of  the  age. 

A  third  time  of  her  elopement,  she  was  reading  the 
only  novel,  which  she  permits  herself  to  read,  that  of 
Sir  Charles  Grandison.  Tears,  like  an  April  shower, 
tinged  with  the  sun,  were  mingled  with  her  joy. 

The  book  was  opened  where  the  once  amiable  Har- 
riot Byron  is  now  Lady  Grandison  ;  where  the  painful 
suspense  of  her  virtues,  though  premature,  attachment*, 
is  crowned  by  an  eternal  union  with  its  object,  and  she 
is  kneeling  to  her  ever  venerable  grandmother,  to  im- 
plore a  blessing.  "  Heavens  !"  (said  she)  "  what  an 
exquisite  and  inimitable  painter  was  Richardson  !  How 
qver whelmed  with  admiration,  esteem  and  self  anaihk 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  141 

iation  do  I,  always,  feel  myself,  when  I  read  the  des- 
cription of  his  Harriot  Byron.  So  much  piety,  yet  so 
much  cheerfulness  ;  such  filial  duty,  tenderness,  affec- 
tion,1 so  exquisite  a  sensibility  ;  so  deep  and  glowing  a 
passion,  conducted  with  so  much  delicacy  ;  such  beau- 
ty of  person,  lost  in  so  much  greater  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, and  such  a  winning  candor  and  openness  of  heart 
complete  my  idea  of  every  thing  that  is  noble  and  amiar 
ble  in  woman. 

I  never  read  this  writer  without  weeping.  He  had' 
an  amazing  talent  for  the  pathetic  and  descriptive.  He 
opens  all  the  sluices  of  tenderness,  and  tears  flow  down 
our  cheeks  like  a  river.  And  (what  is  most  of  all)  I 
never  open  his  book,  without  feeling  my  sentiments  ele- 
vated and  sublimed,  and  my  heart  more  alive  to  all  the 
suggestions  of  piety  and  virtue.  If  all  novels  had  been 
written  on  such  a  plan,  they  would,"doubtless,  have  been 
very  excellent  vehicles  of  wisdom  and  goodness." 

The  last  time  I  broke  in  upon  Louisa's  retirement,, 
she  was  surrounded  with  authors.  She  seemed  bent  up-, 
on  indulging  her  elegant  taste,  in  all  its  extravagance. 

Addison's  papers  on  the  Pleasures  of  Imagination  ; 
several  pieces  of  Miss  Seward  :  Mason's  English  Gar. 
den;  Ariosto,  with  Hool's  Translation,  and  Webb's 
inq-uiry  into  the  beauties  of  Painting,  together  with  a 
collection  of  Poems  lay,  in  promiscuous  dignitv,  beside 
her.  She  has  accustomed  herself  to  enter  into  a  sort  of 
common  place  book,  passages,  which  she  thinks  particu- 
larly striking.  I  am  happy  in  being  able  to  give  you  a 
little  specimen  of  her  choice,  ivr  she  indulged  me  with 
a  sight  of  the  valuable  manuscript. 

The  first,  poetical  rose  she  had  plucked,  was  from 
the  Italian  poet,  Ariosto.  It  was  his  beautiful  picture 
of  Alcina.  the  enchantress.  I  will  transcribe  a  few  of 
the  lines,  and  the  translation,  though  a  modest  bluslv 
tinged  her  cheeks,  whilst  I  read  the  description. 

])i  persona  era  tanto  ben  formata, 
Quanto  me  finger  san  pittori  iodustri, 


]42  1.  UTTERS    TO     \    YOUNG    LADY. 

Con  bionda  chioma  lunga  ed  anodata  ; 
Oron  non  c,  che  piu  risplcnda  e  lastri. 
Spargeasi  per  la  guancia  delicata 
Misto  color  di  rose,  e  di  ligustri. 

Her  matchles*  person  every  charm  combined 
Fatti'd  in  th'  idea  of  a  painter's  mind. 
Bound  iq  a  knot  behind  her  ringlets  roll'd 
Down  her  fair  neck,  and  shown  like  waving  gold  ; 
Her  blooming  cheeks  the  blendid  tints  disclose 
Oi  liilies,  damask'd  with  the  blushing  rose,  &c.  &c. 

From  Lord  Lvttleton's  monody  on  his  lady,  she  had 
copied  the  following  pathetic  verses.  Whilst  I  read 
them,  she  appeared  amazingly  affected. 

O  shades  of  Hagley,  where  is  now  your  boast  ? 

Your  bright  inhabitant  is  lost  j 

You  she  preferr'd  to  all  the  gay  resorts, 

Where  female  vanity  might  wish  to  shine. 
The  pomp  of  cities  and  the  pride  of  court*  : 
Her  modest  beauties  shtmn'd  tile  public  eye  ; 

To  your  sequestered  dales, 

And  flow'r  embroider' d  vales, 
From  an  adminng  world  she  chose  to  fly. 
With  nature  there  retir'd  and  nature's  Go  J, 

The  silent  paths  of  wisdom  trod, 
"And  banish'd  ev'rv  passion  from  her  breast, 

But  those,  the  gentlest  and  the  best, 
Whose  holy  flames,  with  energy  divine, 
The  virtuous  heart  enliven  and  improve, 
The  conjugal  and  maternal  love. 

Sweet  babes,  who,  like  the  little,   playful  fawns, 
Were  wont  to  trip  along  those  verdant  lawns, 

By  your  delighted  mother's  side, 
Who  now  your  infant  steps  shall  guide  ? 
Ah  !  where  is  now  the  hand,  whose  tender  care 
To  ev'ry  virtue  would  have  form'd  your  youth, 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  143 

And  strew'd  with  flow'rs  the  thorny  ways  of  truth, 
O  loss  beyond  repair  ! 
O  wretched  father  left  alone 
To  weep  their  dire  misfortune  and  thy  own  ! 
How  shall  thy  weaken'd  mind,  oppressed  with  woe, 
And  drooping  oe'r  thy  Lucy's  grave 
Perform  the  duties,  that  you  doubly  owe  ! 

Now  she,  alas  !  is  gone 
From  folly  and  from  vice,  their  helpless  age  to  save  ? 

Mrs.  Carter's  celebrated  Ode  to  Wisdom  always 
makes  one  thrill  with  a  melancholy  pleasure,  and  it  had 
furnished  Louisa  with  these  beautiful  stanzas  : 

Thy  breach,  inspires  the  poet's  song 
The  patriots  free,  unbiass'd  tongue 

The  hero's  genrous  strife  ; 
Thine  are  retirement's  silent  joys, 
And  all  the  sweet,  endearing  ties 

Of  still,  domestic  life. 

No  more  to  fabled  names  confin'd 
To  thee,  supreme,  all  perfect  mind, 

My  thoughts  direct  th^ir  flight  : 
Wisdom's  thy  gift,  and  all  her  force 
From  thee  deriv'd  unchanging  source 

Of  intellectual  light. 

O  send  here  sure,  her  steady  ray 

To  regulate  my  doubtful  way- 
Through  life's  perplexing  road  ; 

The  mists  of  error  to  controul, 

And,  through  its  gloom,  direct  my  soul 
To  happiness  and  good. 

Beneath  her  clear,  discerning  eye 
The  visionary  shadow's  fly 

Of  folly's  painted  show  ; 
She  sees  through  ev'ry  fair  disguise, 
That  all,  but  virtue's  solid  joys 

Is  vanity  and  woe. 


144  LETTERS  TO  A   YOUNG  LADY. 

Miss  Seward's  poetical  address  to  Mr.  Wright,  en- 
gaged in  taking  her  father's  picture,  had  supplied  her 
with  these  four  most  interesting  and  pathetic  lines  : 

O  when  his*  urn  shall  drink  my  falling  tears, 
Thy  t  faithful  tints  shall  shed  a  soft  relief, 

Glow,  with  mild  lustre  o'er  my  darken'd  years, 
And  gild  the  gathering  shades  of  filial  grief. 

The  ever  graceful  and  elegant  Fontaine,  so  justly 
esteemed  the  Corregio  of  poetry,  had  supplied  her  with 
the  fables  of  Le  Chene  et  le  Rouseau,  La  Fille ;  and 
from  the  theatre  Surf  Education  of  Comtesse  le  Genlis, 
she  had  stolen  the  fragrant  rose  of  Salency. 

From  a  judicious  arrangement  of  these  separate 
sweets,  she  had  composed  a  very  elegant  bouquet  which 
cast  a  delicious  fragranee  on  her  character  and  virtues* 

And  now,  tell  me,  what  think  you  of  Louisa  ?  If  she 
was  married  to  the  first  sovereign  in  Europe,  would  she 
not  be  the  richest  jewel  in  his  crown  I 


LETTER  LXXXI. 

I  WILL  now  give  you  another  picture.  It  is  that 
of  a  young  lady,  whom  I  have  lately  had  the  honor  of 
seeing,  just  arrived  from  a  boarding  school.     It  is  Lady 

Harriet .     But  I  will  not  undertake  to 

say,  that  the  features  will  please  you.  They  are  certain- 
ly different  from  those  of  Louisa. 

She  was  almost  incessantly  practising  little  arts,  and 
adjusting  all  her  airs  and  graces  to  engage  admiration. 
"When  she  spoke,  she  minced  her  syllables,  and  when 
she  looked,  she  threw  an  unnatural  vivacity  into  her  eyes. 
She  is  a  fine,  blooming  girl ;  and  if  she  had  not  taken 
such  uncommon  pains  to  please,  must  necessarily  have 
charmed  every  beholder. 

How  long  will  it  be  before  people  learn,  that  nothing 

*  Her  Father's  f  Wright's 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG   LADY.  145 

engages  so  much,  a3  the  ease  of  nature  ?  An  artless 
simplicity  is  the  highest  charm.  Whatever  studies  ad- 
miration, raises  disgust.  System  and  constraint  destroy 
ease.     And  ease  is  the  parent  of  all  the  graces. 

It  is  the  business  of  education  to  lop  off  some  little 
luxuriant  boughs  from  the  tree  of  nature,  but  not  to  con- 
strain it,  that  it  cannot  vegetate,  or  give  to  every  branch 
an  unnatural  direction.  I  should  prefer  the  plain,  hon- 
est awkwardness  of  a  mere  country  girl,  to  overacted 
refinement. 

Though  Lady  Harriet is  not  yet   four- 
teen years  old,  she  has  more  than  the  airs  and  forward 
ness  of  a  woman.     Who  can  have  taught  this  girl,   that 
roses  are  expected  to  open  all  at   once   and   not  by  de- 
grees ? 

Timidity  and  diffidence  are  the  most  attracting  qual- 
ifies of  a  girl ;  a  countenance  always  modest,  and  un- 
designing  ;  a  tongue  often  silent,  and  cars  always  at- 
tentive. 

Boarding  schools,  it  should  seem,  may  be  compared 
to  hot  beds.  They  bring  fruits  and  flowers  quickly  to 
their  growth.  But  they  have  not  their  proper  essence, 
healthiness,  or  flavour. 

The  girlish  state  is  so  pleasing,  in  itself,  that  we  wish 
not  to  see  it  exchanged,  before  its  time,  for  the  caution, 
the  artifices,  or  the  subtil  policy  of  age. 

It  is  desirable,  that  a  girl  should  retain,  as  long  a* 
possible,  the  innocent  dress,  manners,  habit  and  senti- 
ments of  childhood.  She  will  never  be  more  captiva- 
ting, when  she  is  a  woman.  Natural  untortured  ring- 
lets,  sashes,  frocks,  &c.  are  superior  to  all  the  laboured 
trappings  of  fashion.  Nature  has  given  to  every  age 
as  well  as  to  every  season  of  the  year,  its  appropriate 
charms.  ^We  should  be  greatly  disappointed,  if  the 
soft  breezed  and  the  pleasing,  new  born  scenery  of  the 
spring  were  impatient  to  dissolve  into-  the  sultry  heats 
of  summer. 

A  forward  girl  always  alarms  me.     Indelicacy,   im- 
prudence and  improper  connexions  start  up  to  my  view. 
N 


14-6  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNtt    LADY. 

I  tremble  for  her  friends,  and  see  her  history,  gradually 
imfnlding  into  indiscretion. 

Chilclrc  n  arc  apt  enough,  of  themselves  to  aspire  into 
\70manhood.  A  governess  should  check  this  spirit, 
and  nip  it  in  the  bud.  A  long  nonage,  if  I  may  so  call 
it,  is  lavourable  to  your  sex.  During  this  period',  a  girl 
is  acquiring  some  solid  improvement.  When  she  fan- 
cies herself  a  woman,  company,  pleasures  and  conversa- 
tion with  the  other  sex,  unhinge  her  mind,  and  bid  un- 
quiet thoughts  take  possession  of  her  fancy. 

I  could  discover  from  the  conversation  of  Lady  Har- 
riet, that  she  was  deeply  read  in  novels  and  romances. 
Her  expressions  were  beyond  nature,  turgid  and  over- 
atrained,  where  she  only  wished  to  convey  a  common 
idea. 

A  volume  would  not  be  sufficient  to  expose  the  dan- 
gers of  these  books.  They  lead  young  people  into  an 
enchanted  country,  and  open  to  their  view  an  imagina- 
ble world,  fuli  of  inviolable  friendships,  attachments,  ec- 
stacies,  accomplishments,  prodigies  and  such  visionary 
joys,  as  never  will  be  realized  in  the  coarseness  of  com- 
mon life.  The  romantic  turn,  they  create, -indisposes 
for  every  thing  that  is  rational  or  substantial.  They 
corrupt  all  principle.  Fortitude  they  unnerve*  and  sub- 
stitute, in  its  place,  a  sickly  sensibility,  that  cannot  rel- 
ish common  blessings  or  common  things  ;  that  is  con- 
tinually wounded  with  its  own  fancies,  and  even  "ready 
to  expire  of  a  rose,  in  aromatic  pain/'  Their  sentiment 
is  but  a  fine  spun  word  for  indelicate  emotions.  Their 
sympathy  and  friendship  are  often  but  a  specious,  flimsy 
covering  for  criminal  attachments.  Such  false,  over- 
strained ideas  have  led  many  a  poor  gir!  to  ruin.  Un- 
der "the  notion  of  superior  refinement,  similarity  of  souls 
and  involuntary  friendship,  she  has  gradually  bern  se- 
duced from  the  paths  of  virtue,  to  the  commission  of 
the  grossest  crimes.  A  fine  sptcfeftlitl  idea  has  been 
used  to  palliate  the  dreadful  action.  St  ntiment  has  tri- 
umphed over  the  vulgar  shick^es  of  co*s<  Lnce.  and  0* 
-everv  sockJ  *n:l  moral  obligation. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LAHV.  I  17 

Plays,  operas,  m.isq  leru  les  and  all  the  other  fashion- 
able  pleasures,  hdvc  not  half  so  much  dinger  to  yourtg 
people,  as  the  reading  of  these  books.  With  them,  thj 
most  delicate  girl  can  enteruin  herself  in  private,  with- 
out any  censure  ;  and  the  poison  operates  m^re  forcibly, 
becaase  unperceived.  The  most  profligate  villam;  that 
was  bent  on  tne  infernal  purpo.se  of  seducing  a  woman, 
could  not  wish  a  symptom;  more  favourable  to  bis  pur- 
pose, thran  an  iaKi^inatijn,  inu.tmed  with  die  rlupaodisa 
of  novels. 

Lady  If betrayed  great  pride,  in  disa- 
vowing any  acquaintance  with  some  young  ladies,  at  the 
same  school, because  their  parents  were  not  equal  to  hers 
in  point  of  fortune.  She  had  formed,  poor  girl,  wrong 
notions  of  importance  ;  and  they  had  not,  it  should  seem, 
b.een  properly  corrected. 

Under  the  idea  of  teaching  young  people  what  is  due 
tQ,  their  rank,  boarding  schools  encourage  pride  by  a  si/s~ 
tern.  Whoever  consults  the  happiness  of  a  daughter, 
should,  as  systematically ,  endeavour  to  propogate  hu- 
mility. 

Alas  !  my  dear  girl,  what  have  any  of  us  to  boast  of? 
What  dignity  is  there  in  an  heap  of  money,  unless  it 
be  devoted  to  charitable  actions  ?  To  be  carried  in 
state,  to  eat  deliriously,  or  to  sleep  on  down,  may  have 
something  in  ir,  to  weak  mortals^  that  elevates  and 
charms  ;  but  to  an  inhabitant  of  heaven,  or  to  superior 
spirits,  must  be  as  frivolous,  as  the  toils  or  little  play 
things  of  children  appear  to  us. 

What  supreme  importance  does  it  give  to  a  rational 
creature,  that  the  silk  worm  has  spun  for  her  a  robe  of 
elegance,  or  that  the  milliner  has  bespangled  her  with 
ornaments  ?  These  ornaments,  alas  !  cover  only  a 
"  poor  worm,"  a  sinner  !  a  creature,  subject  to  innume- 
rable infirmities  and  sorrows  !  and  after  all,  the  peacock 
has  more  gaudy  plumage,  and  flowers  of  the  field  arc 
more  beautifully  decked  ! 

Where  again  is  the  dignity  of  high  birth,  unless  it 
leads  to  dignified  conduct  ?  And  what  are  all  these  dis- 


J  48  J.LTTEKS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

tincrions  to  a  creature,  that,  any  instant,  may  be  strip- 
ped ol every  tiling  ;  that  may  die  any  hour  ?  and  must 
be  called  to  a  very  were  account,  if  they  have  not  been 
religiously  improved  ?  \ 

It"  you  are  ever  disposed  to  be  proud,  look  forward  to 
ihe  moment,  which  will  bury,  along  with  you  in  the 
dust,  titles,  honors,  riches,  beauty,  friends,  connexions 
- — to  the  moment,  when  the  world  will  be  shrivelled  in- 
to atoms — when  you  must  stand,  a  naked  and  unprotect- 
ed criminal,  before 'the  supreme  Majesty  of  heaven  ; 
?nd  endeavored  acquire  that  universal  love,  which,  for 
the  sake  of  doing  a  religious  action,  is  content  to  "  be- 
come the  6e  rvant  of  all."  This  love  will  be  a  sovereign 
balsam  of  the  soul.  It  will  heal  a  thousand  disorders, 
ax\<\  prevent  as  many  more. 

The  author  of  all  wisdom  and  greatness  was  u  meek 
rrid  lowly  in  heart."  He,  who  could  have  commanded 
kingdoms,  inhabited  a  cottage.  Humility  is  the  di\tin- 
guishing  badge  of  his  religion.  And,  whenever  you  are 
his  real  disciple,  you  will  not  exalt  yourself  above  the 
ijitanestcreature,butunder  an  accumulation  of  all  worldly 
distinctions,  will  smite  upon  your  breast  with  the  publi- 
can, and  say,  4  God  be  merciful -to  m'e  a  sinner.' 

Happiness  and  pride  are  absolutely  incompatible. — 
Con'inual  vexations*  fayivifiil  slights  and  injuries  and 
prove  cations  wound  the  self- sufficient  mind. 

Pride  is  contrary  to  every  thing,  xhwt  p 'cases  in  a  .wo- 
ittan.  It  hr»s  no  softness,  no, benignity,  no  ease.  The 
jipostle  has  Justly  called  u  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  an 
imament"  It  is  the  robe,  in  which  a  woman  should 
always  be  dressed,  who  wishes  to  secure  a  permanent 
esteem. 

LETTER  LXXXII. 

MY    DEAR     LUCY, 

I  GAVE  you  a  description  of  the  true  delicacy  of 
Louisa.  I  have  lately  seen  it  over-acted  by  aaother 
person,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  disgust   me  beyond  ex- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  119 

pression.  The  virtues  and  graces  have  all  their  limits. 
It  pushed  further,  they  degt iierate  into  the  veryojpo- 
site  defects.  The  lady,  who  hurt  my  ftelings,  had  not 
considered  this  maxim.  Or  the  had  not  tas'e  and  sense 
enough  to  apply  it.  Her  delicacy  was  absolute  p?udery 
and  affectation. 

True  delicacy  is  nothing  more,  than  the  refinement  fcf 
modestij.  It  is  the  sensitive  plant  of  woman,  which 
gives  the  quickest  notice  of  approaching  danger,  and 
trembles  at  the  bare  apprehension  of  any  thing,  which 
can  injure  her  honor,  her  safety*  or  repose.  So  amiable 
in  itself,  one  cannot  wonder,  that  every  female  wishes 
to  be  thought  in  possession  of  it.  But  it  is  a  shy  and 
timid  plant,  and  least  displays  itself,  where  it  is  known 
to  exist  in  the  highest  cultivation. 

.Some  women  are    so   over- laden  with   this  virtue,  as. 
to  be  almost  insufferable  in  society  ;  so  outrageous!'/  \L:- 
tuous,  that  they   render   all   their  purity  and  principles 
suspected. 

This  trer.i  >!in<r!>j  modest  female,  in  a  company 
which  I  had  lately  the  honor  of  making  on:*,  on  hearing 
that  a  number  of  gentlemen  were  coming  to  drink  tea, 
seemed  very  much  alarmed,  and  pretended  to  make  an 
apology  for  retiring.  Now  this  was  nothing  less  than 
downright hypocrisy.  If  it  had  been  possible  to  look 
into  her  heart',  probably*  at  the  very  moment,  it  was 
thrilling  with  joy,  for  the  agreeable  information* 

Every  woman  in  the  world  is  fund  of  our  society, 
unless  she  has.  formed  some  particular  attachment,  and 
wishes  to  indulge  the  greater  luxury  of  solitary  rei 
lection.  It  is  a  natural  and  an  innocent  pleasure,  and 
it  would  be  the  falsest  delicacy  to"  disown  it. 
ways  cu,p  ct  these  prudes.  We  fancy,  that  their  mo- 
desty diminishes  in  piivate,  in  proportion,  as  it  appeals 
to  dilate  and  to  magnify  itself,  before  tl;«  public  in* 
spection 

Upon  hearing,   again,   that  a   young  lady  had    bee:.>. 
smart  and  lively  with  a  gentleman  of  her  acquaintance^ 
she  blessed  her  Qtur*}  and  wondered,  how  ipeh  fat  war  & 
N2 


150  LETTERS    TO     A    YOUNG    LART. 

ness  escaped  reprobation  /  Now  this  girl  acted  from  na- 
ture. The  gentleman  was  agreeabta.  She  felt  the  plea- 
sure. She  dared  to  express  it.  She  wished  to  enter- 
tain him,  and  she  did  right.  The  other  blamed  her 
from  envy  or  from  affectation. 

These  over-nice  and  over-virtuous  people  would  do 
well  to  consider,  that  an  odious  restraint  would  banish 
all  the  sweets  of  an  intercourse  betwixt  the  sexes,  and 
fix  a  moping  and  a  dismal  gloom  on  the  face  of  the  cre- 
ation. It  is  no  breach  of  true  delicacy  to  comply  with 
the  innocent  dictates  of  nature.  A  woman  may,  very 
modestly,  avow  a  virtuous  attachment.  She  may  ex-. 
press  an  approbation  of  particular  men,  and  do  justice 
to  their  merit.  She  may  shew  a  fondness  for  being  in 
their  company.  She  may  chat,  in  a  sociable  and  an 
easy  manner  with  them  ;  nay  she  may  think  of  being 
a  wife  or  a  mother,  without  injuring  the  finest  tints  of 
this  laudable  quality.  Providence*  intended  her  for 
such  circumstances  and  connexions,  and  they  need  not 
a  blush. 

That  piety  is  most  solid,  which  aJects  no  gloomy  ri- 
gours, or  singularities  ;  which  makes  no  noise,  and 
courts  no  observation.  It  is  so  with  delicacy.  That  is. 
always  the  most  exquisite,  which  is  least  ostentatious. 
An  unstudied  openness  and  simplicity  of  manners  are 
the  strongest  symptoms  of  a  guiltless  heart,  and  a  vir- 
tuous intention.  Those  young  people  are  generally,  the 
most  amiable,  that  are  most  undisguised.  Having  no- 
thing to  conceal,  they  have  studied  no  art.  They  may, 
sometimes,  give  way  to  little  sallies,  which  the  rigid 
would  condemn  ;  but  they  are  sallies  of  good  humor  y 
wind  generosity  forgives  them. 

Another  instance,  in  which  this  lady  offended  me,  and 
vet  from  an  over  desire  of  pleasing,  was  by  assuming  a 
mistaken  dignity.  In  fact,  true  dignity,  in  any  person, 
consists  in  the  virtues ;  humility,  condescension,  can- 
dor ;  and  is  only  supported  by  great  qualities,  or  by  a 
train  of  amiable  actions.  But  in  a  woman's  manner,  if 
stit  considered  only  what  is  graceful,  there  should  aV« 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  151 

ways  be  more  of  the  lovely,  than  the  great  ;  of  the  en- 
gaging, than  the  magnificent  or  sublime.  Her  authori- 
ty should  be  lost  in  sweetness ;  the  dar,zling,  in  the 
mild. 

Women  were  not  formed  to  diwusby  their  majestv, 
but  to  sooth  us  by  their  graces.  We  may  be  struck  with 
a  Cleopatra,  but  we  love  an  Antiope.  A  Catharine 
may  astonish  us,  but  we  are   charmed  with  a  ■  ■■, 

C- e. 


LETTER  LXXXIII. 

THE  tour  of  affectation  is  unbounded.  I  have  just 
returned  from  a  circle  of  ladies,  who  have  been  enter- 
taining me  with  a  very  long  harangue,  on  (what  they 
choose  to  call)  fine  feelings.  This  is  quite  a  fashiona- 
ble subject.  The  truth,  is,  sensibility  is  considered  as  a 
matter  of  refinement,  and  a  proof  of  being  raised  above 
the  vulgar  ;  and  many  young  people,  I  do  believe,  would 
be  more  hurt  by  any  reflection  on  their  sensibility,  than 
if  you  suspected  their  piety  and  virtue. 

This  rage  for  the  compliment  of  fine  feelings  seems 
to  have  originated  in  the  writings  of  Sterne.  'His  very 
eccentric  talents  were  always  contriving  some  fictitious 
tale  of  woe,  and  bidding  the  tear  to  drop  ;  the  general 
circulation  of  his  works,  and  the  novels  which  have  since 
sprung  up  in  the  hot-bed  of  France,,  and  of  our  own  im- 
aginations, have  led  young  people  lo  fancy  every  grace 
and  almost  every  virtue,  comprised  under  this  specious 
and  comprehensive  name. 

Nothing  certainly  can  be  more  nauseous  and  disgust- 
ing, than  an  affected  sensibility,  as  nothing  is  more 
charming  than  the  pare  and  genuine.  But,  with  all  this 
noise  about  it,  I  am  far  from  knowing  whether  there  is 
much  of  the  real  in  the  world.  They,  who  would  be 
thought  to  have  it  in  perfection,  are  only  in  possession 
of  the  artificial.  For  is  it  sensibility  to  prefer  the  tur- 
bid pleasures  of  midnight  to  opening  buds  and  blos- 
aoms  ;  to  the  lessons,  which  the  Creator  gives  in  every 


rERS    TO     a    rOVNG    LADY. 

vegetable  and  everv  insect  ;  to  undisturbed  contempla- 
tion ;  to  the  raptures  of  devotion,  or  all  the  fair  and  en- 
chanting landscapes  of  creation  ;  to  the  sentiment,  the 
taste  and  knowledge,  that  a-e  displayed  in  the  works  of 
the  most  learned  and  ingenious  men,  or  the  entertain- 
ment and  delight  amd  profit,  we  might  rective  from  the 
volume  of  revelation  ?  Is  it  sensibility  to  form  a  sacred 
connexion  with  one  person,  and  encourage  a -criminal 
attachment  to  another  ?  Is  it  sensibility  to  leave  tire 
charms,  the  cries,  the  wants  and  tender  pleadings  of  an 
infant  offspring,  for  the  vain  and  perishable  splendor  of 
a  ball,  a  birth- night,  or  a  levee  ? 

Every  thir.king  person  must  be  disgusted  with  such 
a  kind  of  sensibility.  Rigid  criticism  would  call  it  by  a 
very  harsh  name,  and,  society  has  reason  to  reprobate 
its  tendency.  Yet  Sterne's  sensibility  led  to  many  of 
those  evils  ;  ani  who  knows  not,  that  a  thousand  ladies, 
who  vaunt  fine  feelings,  are  dupes  to  this  ridiculous  il- 
lusion ? 

True  feeling  is  of  a  very  different  complexion.  Like 
genius,  it  must  come  from  heaven  ;  indeed  it  is  a  part 
of  genius  ;  a*nd,  like  that,  is  very  rare.  It  depends 
considerably  on  temperament  and  organization  :  is 
much  heightened  by  particular  advantages  of  education, 
society,  friends,  reading,  observation  and  reflection  ; 
and  will  generally  be  quickest  in  the  most  elevated 
minis.  But,  even  when.it  is  most  genuine  and  poig- 
nant, it  will  never  be  a  guide,  safely  to  be  trusted  till 
it  is  governed  by  reason,  checked  by  discretion,  and 
moulded  by  that  religion,  which  requires  us  to  devote 
every  instinct  we  have,  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  to 
the  happiness  of  all  our  fellow  creatures,  and  of  our- 
selves. 

Thus  consecrated,  it  is  a  source  of  the  purest  and  the 
richest  blessings.  It  is  the  parent  of  an  earnest  devo- 
tion to  him,  who  gave  it,  and  of  a  thousand  blessings  to 
mankind.  It  appropriates  all  the  sorrows  of  its  breth- 
ren !  it  feels  in  every  woe,  "  rejoices  with  them,  that 
do  rejoice,  and  weeps  with  them  that  weep  j"  and  dou- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  15'} 

bly  alive  to  all  the  exercises  of  piety,  in  blossoms,  in 
flowers,  in  minerals,  in  vegetables,  in  stars,  in  planets, 
in  the  azure  vault  of  heaven,  in  thunders,  in  storms,  in 
earthquakes,  in  volcanos,  in  the  revolutions  of  empire, 
and  destruction  of  cities,  feels  most  exquisitely,  adores 
and  loves  and  venerates  the  wisdom,  the  power,  the 
goodness  and  wonders  of  an  all-present,  and  all- dispos- 
ing God." 

It  is  with  this,  as  with  every  other  grace  and  virtue. 
There  is  a  false  and  a  true.  The  false  is  lond  and  noi- 
sy, much  addicted  to  egotism,  and  obtrudes  itself  on 
public  observation  in  order  to  gratify  its  own  conceit 
and  vanity  ;  the  other,  modest,  timid,  retired,  shrinks 
into  itself;  feels  but  says  nothing  of  its  feelings  ;  suf- 
fers, but  conceals  its  sufferings  ;  rejoices,  but  does  not 
vaunt  its  joy,  and  is  too.  delicate  in  its  nature,  and  too 
much  interested  to  solicit  pity,  or  to  court  approbation. 
The  one  is  an  humble  fire-work,  which  cracks  and  spark- 
las  ;  the  other  is  that  lightning,  which,  in  an  instant,  e- 
lectrifies  and  shocks  ;  this  is  the  offspring  of  heaven  ! 
that,  the  artificial  creature  of  the  world. 

I  will  conclude  this  letter  with  a  contrast  taken  from 
life.  Flavia  lies  in  bed  till  noon  ;  as  soon  as  she  rises, 
sh«  opens  a  novel,  or  a  play-book  ;  weeps  profusely  at 
imaginary  distress,  sips  strong  tea,  till  she  is  almost  in 
hysterics  ;  concludes,  that  sensibility  is  all  her  own,  and 
is  perpetually  complaining  how  her  feelings  are  shocked 
with  such  a  room,  or  such  a  prospect,  the  coarseness  of 
this  character,  and  of  that  conversation,  and  how  the 
sight  of  a  poor  beggaivgipes  her  the  vapors. 

Emily  never  says  a  word  attout  her  feelings,  rises 
with  the  dawn,  endeavours  to  fortify  her  body  with  air 
and  exercise,  and  her  mind  with  devotion  ;  is  oftner 
seen  with  her  bible,  than  any  other  IJook  ;  seems  pleas- 
ed with  every  person  and  every  object  about  her,  and 
puts  on  a  cheerful  smile,  when  her  bosom  is  really 
throbbing  with  pain,  for  the  distresses  of  her  fellow 
creatures. 

I  was  lately  in  her  company,   when    a  case   of  very 


1J4  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

singular  distress  happened  to  be  related,  of  a  lady  re- 
duced, from  the  height  of  afll  u.nce,  to  a  poverty  which 
she  attempted  to  conceal.  Shs  uttered  not  a  syllabi':, 
but,  in  a  little  while,  quitted  the  room,  aud  returned, 
after  a  considerable  interval,  with  eyes,  that  she  had 
vainly  bidden  not  to  betray  her  emotions.  The  next 
circumstance  I  heard,  was,  that  she  had  sent  a  53l  bank 
note  without  any  signature,  to  the  relief  of  the  fair  suf- 
ferer. The  secret  was  discovered,  contrary  to  the 
strictest  injunctions,  by  the  imprudence  of  the  bearer. 
She  has,  since,  adopted  one  of  the  daughters,  to  be  ed- 
ucated for  htr  own. 

Tell   me  now,   my  Lucy,  which  of  these  is. the  true 
and  the  productive  sensibility  ? 


LETTER  LXXX1V. 

I  WILL  give  you  candidly,  at  your  request,  my  o- 
pinion  of  some  celebrated  writers.  If  you  differ  from 
rne  on  reading  them,  it  may  produce*  a  collision  of  sen- 
timents, which  will  be  favorable  to  our  mutual  improve- 
ment. At  any  rate,  it  will  serve  to  exercise  your  own 
judgment  and  discrimination. 

Voltaire  13  a  graceful,  but  a  superficial  writer.  He 
had  more  taste  than  genius,  and  more  liveliness  than 
authenticity.  Volatile  in  his  researches,  impatient'of 
investigation  and  hast}'  in  his  decisions,  you  can  scarce- 
ly rely  on  the  truth  or  authority  of  any  facts,  he  relates. 

If  I  must  recommend  any  of  his  works,  it  should  be 
his  Henri  ad  c*  liut  I  do  not^sfo  you  to  cultivate  any 
clo^e  acquaintance  with  so  erroneous,  and  seductive  an 
author. 

Kousseau  is  very  fanciful,  but  very  engaging.  His 
whims  are  all  tl<t»  ebullitions  of  genius  ;  and,  as  such 
they  please.  Nothing  was  ever  so  strangely  romantic, 
as  his  Emilius,  or  system  of  Education  ;  a  mere  paper 
edifice  of  children,  which  the  first  and  gentlest  touch  of 
Experience  totally  destroys.  You  may  read  it  to  be  a- 
mused,  not  to  be  instructed. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  1j5 

Why,  yoa  will  naturally  ask,  were  these  distinguish- 
ed men  enemies  to  revelation  ?  The  truth  is,  genius  dis- 
dains to  move  in. shackles,  or  to  tread  beaten  paths. — 
Originality  is  its  constant  aim.  It  must  candidly  be 
owned,  that  revelation  has  some  doctrines,  superior  to 
our  reason.  Otherwise,  we  should  have  no  exercise 
for  our  faith  ;  and. our  organs  of  perception  would  be 
too  subtile  and  too  refined  for  a  mortal  state.  And 
these  very  enlightened  men  choose  not  to  stop  at  mys- 
teries, but,  in  the  pride  of  understanding,  arrogantly 
-disbelieve,  what  they  cannot  comprehend. 

Happy  the  humble  Christian,  who  submits  and  a- 
dores  !  who  considers  reason. but  as  an  imperfect  guide, 
and  patiently  waits  the  moment,  when  the  splendors  of 
full  discovery  shall  shine  around  him  ! 


LETTER  LXXXV. 

MY  DEAR    LUCY, 

AFTER  all  the  noise,  that  has  been  made  about  him, 
what  has  this  great  Lord  Chesterfield  written  ?  What 
new  ideas  has  he  communicated  to  the  world  ? 

He  has  given  us  a  few  sketches  of  heathen  mytholo- 
gy, of  the  Grecian,  Roman,  and  English  histories,  writ- 
ten in  a  pleasing  style  ;  and  he  has  inculcated  upon 
youth,  that  excellent  maxim,  of  net  losing  a  single  mo- 
ment from  improvement.  A  man  of  very  moderate 
talents  might  have  done  likewise.  He  had  doubtless, 
some  claim  to  taste  ;  bu£^M"y  little  strength  or  origin- 
ality of  genius  appears  through  his  writings  ;  but  he  was 
a  nobleman,  who  \\jr\  been  conspicuous  for  his  station, 
and  his  coronet  has  reflected  a  lustre  on  his  page. 

What  real  critic  must  not  smile  at  his  decision,  when. 
he  boldly  pronounces  the  Henriade  of  Voltaire*  superi- 
or to  the  Iliad,  the  yF.neid,  and  to  Paradise  Lost?  Per- 
haps, this  poem  may  be  free  from  some,  little  spots  of 
the  others  ;  but  then  it  is  not  a  sun,  whose  fire  con- 
sumes every  slighter  blemish,  and  leaves  the  reader 
wrapped  in  ajsrofounj  enthusiasm  and  amazement. 


156  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

If  it  surpasses  them  in  a  cold  correctness,  has  it  their 
sublimity,  their  energy  and  fire  ?  If  it  has  not  their  ex- 
crescences, has  it  their  impassioned  beauties  ?  Compar- 
ed with  the  Iliad,  or  with  the  work  of  Milton,  it  is  a 
neat  spruce  fir,  placed  near  a  spreading  and  majestic 
oak.  It  is  a  gentle  rivulet  by  the  side  of  a  foaming  tor- 
rent, or  a  magnificent  ocean.  It  is  a  petty  artificial  fire- 
work, playing  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  tremendous 
JEtna. 

But  Voltaire  was  a  congenial  writer,  and  a  congenial 
soul.  In  praising  his  superficial  talents,  Chesterfield 
did  an  honor  to  his  own. 

If  this  writer  had  not  been  a  peer,  who  would  have 
read  his  letters  with  so  much  avidity  ?  All  he  has  pro- 
duced, would  immediately  have  perished  with  the  other 
frothy  bubbles  of  the  day.  Mis  eternal  repetition  of 
"  graces,  graces,"  makes  one  absolutely  sick  ;  and  the 
regimen  he  prescribes  for  the  attainment  of  them,  cre- 
ates him  an  enemy,  in  every  friend  of  religion  and  of 
virtue. 

Society  should  burn  his  books.  All  the  women,  in 
the  world,  should  form  an  unanimous  confederacy  a- 
gainsthim.  He  has  done  every  thing  in  his  power  to 
render  them  detestable  ;  they  should  do  every  thing  in 
theirs,  to  make  the  infamy  of  his  character  immortal. 

Read  him,  to  despise  his  opinions  and  maxims.  Read 
him  that  you  may  rescue  the  honors  of  your  sex,  and 
give  the  lie,  in  your  own  example",  to  every  libel  he  has 
uttered,  and  every  scandal  he  has  endeavored  to  propa- 
gate through  the  world.      ^  *■ 


LETTER  LXXXVI. 

GIBBON  is  splendid,  elaborate,  elegant.  To  me, 
however,  he  is  not,  always,  p  -rspkuous.  1  am,  some- 
times, obliged  to  pause  to  discover  his  meaning.  This 
arises  from  his  having  studied  an  uniform,  condensed 
harmony  of  period,  or  attempting  to  graft  the  peculiari- 
ties of  Tacitus,  on  the  English  idiom.     He  is,  however, 


CtTTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  lo?" 

on  the  whole,  a  captivating  writer ;  and  I  would  not 
forbid  you  the  pleasure  of  perusing  his  interesting  work. 
You  may  admire  his  language  without  imbibing  his  in- 
fidelity. It  is,  indeed,  so  artfully  concealed  under 
beds  of  roses,  that,  it  you  had  not  heard  so  much  about 
it,  you  would  not  easily  have  discovered  the  venom  of 
his  pen. 

What  could  induce  this  splendid  historian  so  insidi- 
ously to  attempt  the  undermining  of  Christianity,  which 
is  the  greatest  balm  and  sweetner  of  life  I  What  are  his 
rounded  periods,  if  they  have  a  tendency  to  rob  the 
world  of  its  sublimest  prospects,  and  of  all  its  support- 
ing hopes  ?  What  will  the  fame  of  talents  avail  him,  if 
he  has  done  his  utmost  to  circulate  infidelity,  as  widely 
as  his  writings,  and  strew  his  paths,  in  every  place, 
through  Which  he  has  passed*  with  heaps  of  the  mur- 
dered? 

It  is  amazing  that  authors  do  not,  more  frequently, 
look  forward  to  the  moment,  when  to  have  made  a  noi*e 
in  the  world,  by  singular  opinions,  will  convey  BQ  joy 
or  comfort  to  the  heart ;  and  when  the  only  consolation 
must  be,  that  they  have  labored  to  promote  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  benefit  of  man. 

I  would  not,  for  the  richest  mitre  in  the  kingdom,  be 
a  Gibbon,  in  my  latest  moments.  In  health  and  pros- 
peritv,  we  may  be  dazzled  with  tinsel.  But  when  we 
come  to  die,  every  thing  will  vanish,  but  piety  and 
truth. 

Immoral  writers  may  do  the  greatest  mischief  to  so- 
ciety, of  any  other  characters  whatever.  i  hey  may- 
corrupt  and  taint  the  morals  of  the  most  distant  poster- 
ity. In  this  sense,  they  may,  for  a  Ipug  time,  continue 
to  be  sinning,  when  their  bodies  are  entombed.  J  heir 
sentiments  may  convey  a  deadly  poison,  to  operate  on 
many  generations  yet  unborn.  And  what  reparation 
or  atonement  can  ihev  make  for  unhinged  principle,  for 
violated  integrity,  and  undermined  hope.  The  Rom- 
ish church  has  a  very  striking  doctrine,  that  such  peo- 
ple continue  in  purgatory  the  longest  of  all  others, 

0 


38         LETTERS  TO  A  YOUN«  LADY. 

I  bless  God,  that  I  never  wrote  a.  line,  however  fee- 
He,  but  with  a  good  intention.  And  may  this  pen  drop 
ircm  my  hands,  before  it  ever  leads  me  to  finish  a  peri- 
od, that  shall  give  me  one  uncomfortable  thought,  or 
one  feeling  of  remorse,  in  my  expiring  momeats. 


LETTER  LXXXVIT. 

IfT    DEAR    ,LUCY, 

THOUGH,  from  principle,  a  declaimer  against  no- 
nels,  yet  of  one  writer,  who  goes  under  this  name,  I 
profess  myself  a  passionate  admirer.  I  mean  Richard- 
son. His  works,  indeed,  are  not  to  be  examined  by 
the  strict  laws  of  a  fastidious  criticism.  They  have 
many  luxuriancies,  and  too  much  pnlixity.  The  lan- 
guage is  natural  and  easy,  but  it  is  not  condensed  into 
the  elegant  conciseness  and  energy  of  the  ancients. 
Richardson  was  a  stranger  to  the  inimitable  models  of 
Greece  and  Rome.  He  was  not  a  classic  ;  but  he  pos- 
sessed a  most  extensive  knowledge  of  human  life  and 
manners  ;  his  judgment  was  strong  and  penetrating  ; 
his  taste,  accurate  ;  his  sensibility,  exquisite  ;  his  ima- 
gination, wonderful  ;  and  his  heart,  impassioned.  Ma- 
ster of  the  human  character,  he  knew  all  its  meander- 
ings.  Master  of  the  human  soul,  he  penetrated  into  all 
its  foldings  and  recesses. 

With  tke  same  breath,  and  in  the  same  moment,  he 
melts,  be  transports,  he  elevates,  he  dignifies,  he  con- 
vinces, and  instructs.  Pathos  is  all  his  own.  u  He  o- 
pens  the  hardest  rocks  by  the  mere  force  of  his  narra- 
tive, and  the  waters  flow." 

Richardson  was,  indeed,  a  writer  of  no  trifling  magni- 
tude. He  was  a  genius  of  no  ordinary  kind.  Degrade 
this  ethereal  spirit,  as  you  will,  it  will  mount  up  to  its 
kindred  skies.  Call  him  a  novelist,  his  merit  rises  a- 
bove  names  and  forms.  These  cannot  debase  his  tal- 
ents. Handle  this  substance,  as  roughly  as  you  please, 
it  returns,  with  an  elastic  vigor,  to  its  usual  shape,  and 
defies  opposition- 


LETTERS    TO     A    YOUNG    LADY.  159 

But  the  excellency  of  his  intention  is  above  all  praise. 
The  interests  of  virtue  and  religion  were  near  his  heart  ; 
and  he  chose  the  epistolary  plan  merely  to  engage  the 
attention  of  his  readers,  and  that  imagination  might 
lend  its  liveliest  charms  to  animate  his  precepts. 

What  a  pattern  of  all  virtues  and  graces,  is  his  Gran- 
dison  !  What  a  lovely  and  finished  girl,  is  his  Harriet 
Byron  !  What  an  unruffled  piety  !  What  a  melting  af- 
fection !  What  filial  duty  to  her  aged  grand-mother  ! 
What  a  kind  sympathy  with  all  her  friends  !  What  sen. 
sibility,  yet  what  prudence  !  What  tenderness,  yet  what 
discretion,  appear  in  her  character  !  How  nicely  is  her 
seriousness  mixed  with  vivacity,  her  fine  sense  with 
modesty,  and  her  frankness  with  decorum  !  How  fond* 
iy  does  she  love,  vet  how  delicately  does  she  manage 
and  reg-ilate  the  flame  ! 

When  .she  pined,  in  secret,  with  an  unconquerable 
attachment,  what  cheerfulness  to  all  her  friends  burst 
through  the  heavy  gloom,  that  lowered  on  her  mind  ! 
What  fear  of  giving  any  pain  to  others,  though  com- 
furtless  herself !  What  veneration  did  she  express  for 
the  unhappy  Clementina  !  What  a  generous  concern  for 
the  innocent,  girlish  emotions  of  Emiiv  !  What  an  un- 
affected   friendship   for   the   lively   Lady  G and 

when  she  was  really  addressed  by  her  Orandison  with 
what  an  open  frankness,  yet  what  a  guarded  delicacy 
and  involuntary  confusion,  did  she  tell  him  that  he  had 
the  full  possession  of  her  soul  ! 

How  venerable  and  engaging  has  this  writer  made 
the  character  of  a  clergyman,  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Bart- 
lett !  How  judiciously  has  he  mixed  the  pastor,  with 
the  friend,  and  combined  the  most  rigid  principles,  with 
the  softest  and  most  attractive  graces.  What  inno- 
cence, integrity,  and  what  prudence  and  caution  about  in- 
terfering in  jamihj  concerns,  has  he  given,  in  another 
work,  to  Dr.  Lewen  1  What  an  independent  spirit,  like- 
wise j  what  a  leaning  to  the  tide  of  the  unfortunate 
Clarissa,  in  opposition  to  all  the'greatest  of  her  friends  ; 
what  a  glowing,  universal  benevolence  ;  what  a  serene^ 
and  undissembled  piety  !  And   how  strikingly  has  he 


iiJO  LETTFRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

contrasted  both  with  the  cunning  hypocrisy  and  pedan- 
tic affectation  of  another  person,  who,  likewise,  wore, 
without  reailv  deserving,  so  sacred  a  garb  ! 

In  opposition  to  modern  customs,  which,  under  a 
false  idea  of  greatness,  would  trample  on  sacred  cere- 
monies, and  bring  the  holy  ordinances  of  religion  to 
their  own  fire-sides,  in  a  manner,  which  divest*  them  of 
all  solemnity  and  decorum,  what  an  invincible  attach- 
ment does  his  Gnmdison  display  to  all  the  decencies  and 
duties  of  the  church  !  What  a  reluctance  does  he  r\- 
press  Kgainst  having  his  marriage  desecrated  bv  a  pri- 
vate celebration  :  and  how  does  he  oblige  his  timid  and 
his  blushing  Harriet  to  vow  at  the  altar ,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  God,  and  in  the  face  of  day,  her  obedience, 
and  her  affection  !  In  fact  these  outward  decencies  are 
the  very  fences  of  piety.  Break  them  down  and  the 
sacred  enclosure  will  soon  become  *w  common  and  un- 
clean. " 

If,  in  short,  I  wished  a  girl  to  be  every  thing,  that 
was  great,  I  would  have  her  continually  study  his  Cla- 
rissa. If  I  was  ambitious  to  make  her  every  thing  that 
was  loveh/,  she  should  spend  her  days  and  nights  in  con- 
templating his  Byron. 

I  most,  however,  confess  a  strong  preference  for  the 
work  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison.  1  he  reading  of  Cla- 
rissa leaves,  upon  the  mind,  too  melancholy  impress- 
ions. Her  distresses  are  too  rJvep  and  too  unvaried  {or 
sensibility  to  bear.  She  was  every  thing  that  was  vir- 
tuous, and  we  look  up  with  admiration.  She  was  eve- 
ry thing,  that  was  miserable,  and  we  look  down  with 
despair.  We  are  tempted  to  funcv,  that  u  there  is  no 
reward  for  the  righteous,  nor  any  God  that  judgeth  the 
earth." 

There  is  a  certain  point,  beyond  which  our  passions 
will  not  bear  to  be  racked.  Beyond  it  even  sympathy, 
the  loveliest  of  them  all  turns  into  the  wildness  of  de- 
spair. Virtue  may  have  its  sorrows  and  its  trials  ;  but 
they  should  not  be  perpetual.  Hope  would  cease  to 
iiicom,  and  the  year   become  intolerable,  if  it  was  whol- 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  161 

ly  composed  of  a  dull  and  dreary  winter,  without  a 
spring.  If  Providence  did  not,  generally,  interfere  in 
favor  of  its  saints,  religion,  I  should  suspect,  would 
soon  lose  one  of  its  strongest  encouragements,  and  most 
sovereign  supports. 

Miss  Byron  is  always  lovely,  and  always  enchanting. 
Her  virtues  are  more  within  the  reach  of  mortality*  Her 
afflictions  are  less  poignant  ;  and  when  her  long  attach- 
ment is  crowned  with  success,  every  good  mind  feels  a 
pleasure,  too  big  for  expression.  We  are  happy  for 
Clarissa^  only  when  she  is  dead.  We  are  very  agreea- 
bly interested  for  Miss  Byron,  through  every  period  of 
her  life,  and  Lichj  GrandUon  charms  us  into  congratu- 
lating triumph. 


LETTER  LXXXVI1I. 

YOU  say  very  truly,  that  the  pictures  of  Richardson 
are  drawn  above  life  ;  that  Sir  Charles  Grandison  nev- 
er existed  except  in  idea,  nor  so  accomplished  a  woman, 
as  Harriet  Byron. 

All  this  is  granted.  Morality,  does  not  admit  of  per- 
fection. Light  and  shade  go*  together.  Foibles  and 
perfections  are  an  inseparable  mixture.  The  rich  soil 
which  produces  great  talents,  by  the  same  prolific  ener- 
gy, nurses  the  rankest  weeds. 

But  what  is  all  this  against  his  Writings  I  Why  peo- 
ple, you  say,  are  deterred  from  attempting  to  imitate  so 
exalted  a  pattern.  But  that  would  be  a  mark  of  an  ig- 
noble soul,  and  of  a  lukewarmness  in  the  cause  of  reli- 
gion and  virtue.  If  we  despair  of  attaining  to  all  their 
perfections,  is  it  nothing  to  approximate,  as  nearly  as  we 
can  ?  Is  it  not  a  noble  and  a  glorious  emulation,  at  least, 
to  exert  our  utmost  strength,  when  we  are  running  the 
race  of  i'nmortali'.y  ? 

The  founder  of  our  holy  religion  is  much  more  nigh- 
ly. raised  above  our  imitation,  and  yet  do  not  the  scrip- 
tures press  us  to  make  the  necessary  attempt  ?  Whi; 
•re*  thought  this  pattern  blameable,  because  60  e.xzfo 

o  a 


1 62  LE  E  TL  as    rp  A  YO  JX  G  LA  D  Y. 

Or  who  ever  dreamed  of  remitting  his  endeavors,  be« 
cause  he  could  not  reach  the  sublimity  of  its  virtues  ? 

The  one  you  will  say,  was  real  ;  the  other  is  ficti- 
tious ;  this  is  human  ;   that  divine. 

True  ;  but  are  we  not  to  copy  this  divinity,  in  our 
degree?  And  who  can  blame  fancy  for  presenting  us 
with  a  perfect  mirror  of  goodness  !  If  imagination  can 
be  used  to  an  important  purpose,  this  I  think  is  the 
plan  ;  if  it  can  be  sanctified  to  aid  the  interests  of  piety, 
this  appears  the  mode  of  sanctitication.  It  is  only  to  be 
blamed,  and  then  it  becomes,  in  all  these  books,  a  most 
dangerous  and  unholy  principle,  when  it  exhibits  scenes 
and  images  to  inflame  those  passions,  which  should  al- 
ways be,  religiously,  suppressed. 

Nor  do  I  blush,  on  the  whole,  cautious  as  I  should 
be,  to  have  borne  this  humble  testimony  to  the  merit  of 
the  author  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  to  have  offered 
my  unavailing  incense  at  his  shrine.  If  I  durst  preach 
in  some  such  manner,  I  could  make  more  converts. 
The  pulpit  will  never  have  its  full  influence  and  effect, 
ii\\  argument  is  mixed  with  strong  appeals  to  the  heart ; 
and  till,  whilst  the  judgment  is  convinced,  the  imagina- 
tion is  permitted  by  lively,  descriptive  and  energetic 
sallies,  to  captivate  the  soul. 


LETTER  LXXXIX. 

MY    d?:ar    LUCY, 

I  REJOICE  to  find  you  disgusted  with  Tristram 
Shandy.      I  never  thought  these  writings  fit  for  a  lady., 

Let  me  candidly  ask  our  moderate  fair  ones,  could 
they  bear  to  hear  such  conversations,  without  blushing, 
or  expressing  their  contempt  ?  And  should  not  then  the 
eye  be  as  chaste,  as  the  ear  ?  The  first,  indeed,  can  be 
gratified  in  private.  But  can  that  delicacy  be  very  ex- 
quisite, which  can  regale,  when  alone,  on  sentiments 
and  dnscriptions,  from  which,  m  public,  it  affects  to  turn 
away  with  indignation  and  abhorrence  ? 

I  have  always,  in  private,  lamented  that  Sterne  was  a 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG   LADY.  1G3 

clergyman.  He  might  be  a  lively  humorous  companion, 
but  he  had  too  much  Uvitif,  for  this  profession.  It  is 
true,  he  had  talents  ;  but  what  is  ungovernrd  genius,  bat 
a  violent  flame,  which  burns  instead  of  warming,  and 
dazzles,  where  it  should  enlighten  and  direct. 

This  writer  has  done  inexpressible  mischief.  He  has 
opened  wide  the  flood-gates  of  indecency,  and  an  over- 
whelming torrent  has  poured  on  the  land.  He  has 
conveyed  indelicate  ideas  into  the  minds  of  young  peo- 
ple, under  the  specious  vehicle  of  sentiment,  and  has 
dignified  evmtual  criminality  with  the  false,  insidious 
title  of  involuntary  attachment.  The  corrupted  and  un- 
blushing fair  has  gloried  in  her  shame.  She  has  appeal- 
ed for  her  justification,  from  the  grossness  of  passion, 
to  secret  and  irresistible  feelings  of  the  heart. 

It  is  a  just  compliment  to  the  present  age,  that  the 
best  writers  preserve  more  decorum.  An  indelicate  al- 
lusion would  now  oj  esteemed  an  unpardonable  offrnce 
against  the  public  taste.  Even  the  stage  is  considera- 
bly reformed.  It  was  far  otherwise  in  (what  was  call- 
ed) our  Augustan  age.  Almost  every  author  of  that 
period.  (Addison  excepted,)  breathes  something  of  in- 
delicacy. In  many  passages,  Swift  is  intolerable  ;  Pope 
indecent  j  and  even  Bolingbroke,  with  all  his  claims  to 
birth,  as  well  as  eloquence,  is  not  without  some  gross 
ideas,  and  some  vulgar  expressions. 

But  the  great  corrupter  of  them  all  was  Swift.  The 
reservoir  of  filthiness  ;  all  the  separate  streams  might 
claim  him  for  their  parent  source.  I  have  already  giv- 
en my  sewtiments  of  this  author.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
swell  the  invective,  or  add  any  thing  to  the  charges,  ad- 
duced against  him.  His  abilities  I  never  suspected  ; 
but  I  always  called  in  question  his  temper  and  his 
heart. 

Panegyrists,  however,  have  enumerated  his  many 
virtues.  To  Ireland,  they  say,  he  was  a  skilful  patri- 
ot ;  to  the  church,  a  defender  ;  and  to  the  poor  a 
friend. 

For  the  honor  of  human  nature?  I  will  not  endeavor 


164  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

to  put  a  negative  on  these  virtues.  Let  them  all  be  tak- 
eh  into  the  general  account.  The  balance  will  not  still 
be  heaw  ih  his  favor. 


LETTER  XC. 

WHATEVER  devotional  writers  increase  your  pie- 
ty, by  all  means  use  them.  I  did  not  mention  in  my 
catalogue,  Mrs,  Roxucs  Devout  Exercises  of  the  Heart , 
with  which  you  are  so  much  pleased,  because  to  mc 
they  appeared  overstrained,  and  rather  rhapsodies  of  a 
fervid  imagination,  than  the  dictates  of  a  cool  and  a 
dispassionate  judgment.  But  if  they  really  warm  and 
edify,  that  is  the  great  and  ultimate  end  of  all  religious 
writings;  and  no  one  can  pretend,  in  this  respect,  to 
prescribe  to  the  conscience  or  the  feelings  of  others. 

From  my  observations,  however,  upon  life  and  man- 
ners, that  piety  has  always  appearc  ■  the  most  durable, 
which  is  most  founded  on  reason  and  conviction  ;  and 
though  I  abhor  the  cold  rock  of  scepticism,  yet  there  is, 
likewise,  some  danger,  that  a  well  disposed  woman, 
whose  sensibility  is,  as  yet,  stronger  than  her  judgment, 
may  founder  on  the  opposite  quicksands  of  enthusiasm 
or  of  superstition. 

Still  I  wouid  rather  see  a  small  mixture  of  credulity, 
than  unbelief;  But  there  is  an  happy  medium  betwixt 
the  extremes  ;  and  it  is  verv  rbservable,  that  those  peo- 
ple, who,  in  some  peculiar  period  of  theirdives,  or  un- 
der some  distressing  circumstances,  have  seemed  to 
soar  up  on  the  wings  of  pious  zeal,  into  the  highest  re- 
gions, have,  afterwards,  sunk  below  the  common  level, 
into  a  strange  degree  of  carelessness  and  inattention. 

There  are  moments  in  the  moral  life,  when  fancy 
plucks  the  reins  out  of  the  hand  of  reason  ;  and  though 
she  drives  at  intervals,  with  a  furious  rapidity,  yet  na- 
ture soon  becomes  exhausted  with  the  violence,  and 
cannot  mount  some  intervening  hills  without  stopping 
for  refreshment.  Sometimes,  she  has  been  known,  to 
sit  down  in  a  listless  languor,  and  wv.cUy  to  abandon  the 
journey  in  despair* 


BETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  lo5 

We  are  not,  in  this  state,  formed  for  extremes.  Any 
of  the  passions,  too  violently  exercised,  would  wear  out 
an  imperfect  frame.  True  piety  is  not  the  blazing  me- 
teor of  an  hour,  fierv  in  its  aspect,  and  engaging  the  as- 
tonishment of  a  gazing  multitude,  but  that  softer  and 
settled  light  of  the  firmament,  u  which  shine  ih  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 


LETTER  XCT. 

I  AIM  sorrv  to  sav,  that  you  display  a  false  taste  in 
admiring  Kilkhnmpton  Abbey.  I  am  now  speaking  of 
it*  merits,  merely  as  a  composition.  It  is  not  executed 
with  the  skill  of  a  master.  The  same  uniform  turn  of 
period  and  of  sentiment,  and  the  snme  laboured  pomp 
of  words,  is  visible  through  all  the  different  inscriptions. 
Surely  the  epitaphs  on  so  many  characters,  all  written  as 
might  be  supposed,  by  different  hands  should  be  various 
and  multiform, 

I  never  thought  epitaph  an  easv  species  of  writing.— - 
It  requires  such  a  nice  disciimination  of  character,  such 
a  force  of  pathos,  and  so  concise  an  elegance,  as  fall  not 
to  the  lot  of  one  man,  in  a  thousand.  INI  any  have  at- 
tempted this  stile  of  composition  ;  but,  in  my  opinion, 
few  have  succeeded. 

I  do,  indeed,  most  cordially  detest  this  anonymous 
abuse*  It  is  contrary  to  all  my  ideas  of  civilization, 
politeness,  fortitude,  acid  even  common  generosity,  and 
militates  against  every  thing,  that  should  constitute  the 
real  character  of  a  gentleman,  or  a  christian. 

No  man  lives,  without  foibles  or  particularities  ;  and, 
if  instead  of  making  allowance  for  those  of  others,  in 
order  to  receive  an  indulgence  for  our  own,  we  ungene- 
rously expose  them  to  ridicule  or  contempt,  the  conse- 
quence, in  society,  must  be  a  general  coldness,  disgust, 
rancour,  hostility,  and  unceasing  persecution. 

No  person  can  be  so  cicumspect,  particularly  in  a 
public  character,  as  to  avoid  creating,  though  without 
intending  it,  a  number  of  little   piques  and  enemies  a» 


i  63  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

gainst  himself;  sometimes  even  by  an  inflexible  dis- 
charge of  necessary  duties  ;  and  if  his  character  nvist 
be  taken  from  the  colourings  of  those,  whom  he  has  thus 
innocentlv,  perhaps  laudably  off-nded,  all  his  virtues 
will  be  thrown  into  the  back  ground,  and  his  foibles  ag- 
gravated with  the  utmost  virulence  of  malice  and  re- 
sentment. Prejudice  avuinit,  may  render  the  most  a- 
miable  person  ridiculjus,  by  concealing  the  great*  and 
bringing  forward  the  little  ;  and  prejudice  for,  may 
give  some  sort  of  merit  to  the  most  despicable  and  a- 
bandoned.  Such  a  liberty  of  the  press  is  downright  li- 
centiousness ;  and  every  friend  to  order  and  virtue,  if 
he  will  consult  his  own  feelings,  will  not  hesitate  to  pro- 
liounce,  that  of  all  sacred  things,  character  is  most  so. 

If  a  person  however  great,  had  used  me  ungenerous- 
ly, I  would  certainly  expose  him  to  public  censure,  and 
drag  him  before  the  formidable  tribunal  of  my  country. 
I  would  appeal  from  the  oppression  of  any  individual., 
to  the  general  equity  and  candour  of  mankind.  This  I 
should  conceive,  not  merely  an  act  of  justice  to  myself, 
but  likewise  to  the  world.  It  is  a  common  interest, 
that  tyrants,  however  high  in  rank,  or  in  self  estima- 
tion, should  meet  with  their  deserved  infamy  and  con- 
tempt. Such  a  display  of  true  spirit  wonderfully  stops 
the  progress  of  despotism,  and  teaches  insolence  the 
hard  lesson  of  moderation.  But,  then,  it  should  be 
done  in  the  most  open  manner.  I  would  candidly  sub- 
scribe mv  name  to  the  charges,  I  adduced;  and  whilst 
I  shewed  the  world  that  I  feared  not  the  person  of  man, 
I  would  convince  mine  adversary,  that  1  was  far  above 
the  meanness  of  taking  an  un.nanhj  or  ungenerous  re- 
venge. 

T  his  honest  courage  was  possessed,  in  an  eminent 
degree,  by  the  late  Dr.  Johnson.  Nothing  has  pleased 
me  more  in  the  history  of  his  life,  than  his  truly,  mag- 
nanimous conduct  to  the  late  earl  of  Chesterfield.  When 
he  undertook  to  compose  his  elaborate  dictionary,  lie 
solicited  the  favor  of  inscribing  it  to  his  Lordship,  who 


LL'ITLRS    TO    A   YOUNG   LADY.  167 

was  then,  if  I  mistake  not,  secretary  of  state.  Flattered 
with  appearing  the  patron  of  literature,  Chesterfield  ac- 
cepted the  honor  of  the  dedication,  and  an  honor  it 
would  have"  been  to  any  nobleman  in  the  world.  In  the 
progress  of  this  long  and  tedious  works  he  received  no 
very  solid  marks  of  encouragement  from  !vis  patron,  ond 
suspected  on  the  whole,  that  the  cour  Jy  peer  meant  on- 
ly to  amuse  him. 

Johnson  had  too  much  spirit  either  to  brook  the  idea 
of  neglect,  the  chicanery  of  a  minister,  the  violation  of  a 
promise,  or  the  servility  of  an  abject  dependence.  He 
was  not  likely  to  be  dazzled  with  the  glitter  of  a  coro- 
net, or  intimidated  with  the  ceremonious  pageantry  of 
office.  He,  therefore,  wrote  a  formal  letter  to  :he  no- 
blt-man,  upbraiding  him  with  insincerity,  disclaiming 
his  protection,  and  assuring  him,  that  he  did  not  want, 
and  never  would  receive,  an)-  of  his  favors.  The  con- 
sequence of  this  fracas  was,  that  he  afterwards  stung 
Chesterfield  with  such  bitter  invectives,  and  so  many 
pointed  strokes  of  raillery  and  satire,  as  made  him  hear- 
tily repent  of  having  roused  his  resentment,  and  desir- 
ous, at  any  rate,  of  a  reconciliation.  Johnson,  howev- 
er, persisted  in  his  antipathy,  and  never  afterwards,  I 
believe,  wrote  a  dedication. 

If  Chesterfield  intended  only  to  dally  with  the  author 
of  this  dictionary,  he  should  certainly  have  considered, 
that  men  of  great  abilities  have  too  much  penetration 
not  to  see  through  any  A  msy  disguises  of  a  minister  ; 
too  much  irritability  not  to  be  exasperated  with  hypo- 
crisy or  artifice,  and  too  lofty  a  reliance  on  their  own 
native  powers  to  be  afraid  of  any  peer  or  monarch  in  the 
world. 

Johnson,  it  is  true,  had  not  then  attained  all  his  em- 
inence and  distinction.  lie  was  comparatively,  but  ris- 
ing into  notice.  The  day  that  should  announce  him 
the  hero  of  literature,  was  only  in  its  dawn.  But  con- 
trasted with  his  solid  merit,  what  is  the  paltry  tinsel  of 
station,  from  which  some  people  immediately  becom* 
so  supercilious  and  forbidding  ? 


168  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

If  Chesterfield  did  not  think  the  author  of  the  Ram- 
bler, greater  than  himself :  if  from  the  foot  alone,  he 
could  not  prognosticate  the  futur«  strength  and  immense 
proportions  of  this  literary  Hercules^  he  had  not  a  sin- 
gle grain  of  that  shrewdness  or  discernment,  for  which 
he  has  been  so  much  complimented  by  the  world. 

Such  is  my  idea  of  the  true  and  genuine  spirit,  which 
should  characterize  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman.  It  is 
not  a  stiletto,  stabbing  in  the  dark,  but  a  challenge  to  a 
fair  and  generous  onset,  in  which  your  antagonist  has 
the  opportunity  of  self-defence,  and  of  managing  all  his 
weapons  to  advantage. 

LETTER  XCII. 

THE  beauty  of  the  Lady  you  allude  to,  was  her 
misfortune.  It  inspired  her  with  an  immoderate  vani- 
ty, and  that  vanity  paved  the  way  to  her  ruin.  It  dug 
the  grave,  in  which  her  peace  and  character  are  now 
intombed. 

And  after  all,  my  dear  girl,  what  is  this  beauty  I  It 
is  a  little  clay,  cast  in  an  elegant  mould,  and  by  the  hand 
of  an  eqquisite  artist,  fashioned  into  something  of  sym- 
metry and  order.  It  is  a  small  mixture  in  the  checks, 
of  roses  and  carnations. 

But  who  needs  to  be  informed  that  clay  i3  very  per- 
ishable, that  roses  and  carnations  are  but  summer  mo- 
ment*, and  that  afterwards  there  comes  a  long  autumn 
ot  sickness,  or  a  still  more  dreary  winter  oi  infirmity 
nnd  old  age. 

How  transient  are  the  power  and  duration  of  beauty  \ 
How  very  slight  an  accident  or  disease  blasts  it  for  ev- 
er !  How  fatal  is  a  fever,  the  small-pox,  or  a  little  cor- 
roding grief  to  all  its  allurements  !  and  if  they  do  not 
perish  sooner,  how  dreadfully  are  they  ravaged  by  the 
hand  of  tivne  ! 

Whilst  summer  lasts,  a  few,  fluttering  insects  light 
upon  its  lips,  to  sip  the  sweets.  Some  straggling  birds 
of  passage  chirp  upon  the  neighbouring  spray^ delighted; 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  109 

with  a  view  of  the  amiable  object.  The  notice  is  enchant- 
ing, and  imagination  promises  that  it  shall  be  eternal. — 
But  the  first  storm,  that  comes,  alas !  these  feathered 
songsters  migrate  to  warmer  climates,  and  a  serener 
sky,  leaving  all  its  withered  charms  to  perish  in  neg- 
lect ! 

How  ridiculous  is  the  girl,  who  wilfully  swallows  the 
poison  of  flattery  for  any  personal  charms,  and,  in  the 
height  of  her  intoxication,  can  be  insolent  or  conceited  ! 
What  woman  of  spirit  should  not  aspire  to  qualities 
that  are  less  accidental  and  less  subject  to  change  ! 
What  woman  of  reflection  should  not  resolve  to  adorn 
and  cultivate  a  mind,  whose  treasures  maybe  inexhaus- 
tible, and  whose  attractions  never  die  ? 

I  pity  every  girl,  whom  nature  has  gifted  with  a  very 
pretty  face.  She  seems,  by  the  very  act,  to  have  mark- 
ed her  oat  for  trials  and  temptations,  and  our  strength 
is  n <-t  always  in  proportion  to  our  conflicts. 

iMo.-bt  of  the  unfortunate  ladies,  I  have  known,  have 
been  celebrated  for  their  beaut)*.  This  has  gv'.hered  all 
the  worthless  of  our  sex  about  them  ;  and  called  them 
into  battle,  where,  if  they  hive  not  fallen,  they  have  gen- 
erally received  considerable  scars. 

Beautiful  women,  flushed  with  conquest,  often  neg- 
lect the  necessary  cultivation  of  their  heart  and  under- 
standing ;  and  if  every  man  would  examine  himself  se- 
riously, and  was  required  to  give  in  a  list  of  the  females 
he  most  respects,  the  prettiest,  I  believe,  would  not 
generally  be  in  the  number. 


LETTER  XCIII. 

Do  you  ask  for  patterns  of  conduct  after  what  I  have 
said  of  Louisa  ?  I  do  not  think  you  want  any  ;  but  I 
will  mention  a  ftw,  which  just  occur,  and  endeavour  to 
appreciate  their  merits  or  defects. 

Addison  has    several   in   his    Spectators,   which  are 
wrought  up  with  inimitable  beautv. 
P 


i/0  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

The  Anticpe  of  Cambray,  is  a  charming  picture,  but 
it  betrays  ihc  touches  of  a  popish  ecclesiastic. 

Lena's  Miranda^  is  nn  heroine  of  virtue;  but  she 
breathes  too  much  the  austerity  and  the  abstraction  of 
that  very  animated,  but  peculiar  writer.  Her  piety  is 
loo  monastic.      It  wants  grace,  cheeriulness  and  case. 

Ricliardsorfs  Clarissa  has  qualities-  above  woman,  and 
her  sorrows  plunge  the  reader  into  despair. 

Miss  Byron  is  every  thing,  that  is  finished  in  a  female. 
We  admire  her  greatly,  but  we  love  her  more.  The 
sweetness  of  the  character  swallows  up  its  dignity  ;  in 
the  amiable,  we  forget  the  great.  She  is  precisely  what 
every  man  of  principle  and  taste  would  have  a  woman 
to  be,  when  he  wishes  to  be  married,  and  wishes  to  be 
happy. 

With  sorr-e  persons,  his  Clementina  may  have  her  su- 
perior excellences.  A  passion,  all  sentiments  and  all 
directed  to  the  mind,  and  a  superstitious  religion,  in  a 
particular'country,  wholly  vanquishing  that  paasion,  may 
be  a  fine  spun,  amusing  speculation.  But  to  me  it  ap- 
pears visiowary  and  romantic  ;  and  the  admirers  of  this 
story  will  generally,  I  conceive,  be  found  amongst  those 
ladies  who  would  gladly  persuade  us,  that  by  a  rant  of 
j;oo«lr:ess,  they  can  rise  above  the  innocent  passions  of 
mortality,  and  all  the  natural  weakness  of  their  sex. 

When  I  wish  to  be  delighted  and  charmed  with  wo- 
man, I  would  always  place  before  me  the  full  length 
piece  of  Tic;  riot  Byron.  She  has  sentiment,  but  she 
lias  frailty  ;  she  has  spirit,  but  she  confesses  herself  to 
have,  likewise,  matter  in  her  composition. 


LETTER  XCIV. 

POOR  Ldusia,  notwithstanding  nil  hc.r  goodness,  is, 
at  present,  in  the  greatest  affliction,  and  for  a  reason, 
which  reflects  no  little  honour  on  her  sensibility  and 
virtne.' 

T  have  just  received  a  letter  from  her  father,  inform- 
ing me,  that  Dr.  - — — - .  Rector  of  B , 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG    LADY.  1T1 

and  the  confidential  friend  and  intimate  of  their  fam 
is  very  probably  on  his  death  bed.  He  was  lately  cal- 
led upon,  it  seeing  to  viiit  oneof  his  bearers,  who  was 
sick  with  a  putrid  sore  thro-jt  and  fever,  and  has  taken 
the  infection.  The  physicians  entertain  but  slender 
hopes  of  his  recovery,  jlanddr*   I  i  admit*, 

to  h'mi  th  u  holy >•  ■   ■  •  ptftoyet ; 

and  blessing  .    himself  so  <  (ministered  tk» 

Others,  The  whole  village  is  in  mourning;  All  the 
peasants,  I  am  told.,  appear  as  sheep  without  a  sher> 
herd. 

This  good  man  was  well  acquainted  with  everv  per- 
son in  his  parish.  He  thought  it  his  duty,  to  visit  all 
his  hearer?,  to  investigate  their  spiritual,  as  well  as  tem- 
poral wants,  and  to  remove  the  former,  whilst  he  exten- 
ded  a  liberal  supply  to  the  latter. 

The  death  of  such  a  person  is  more  than  the  loss  of 
the  nearest  relatives.  A  good  clergyman,  in  the  coiflt- 
try,  unites,  in  his  own  person,  all  the  tender  connexions. 

IT'.-  is  a  father,  brother,  guardian,  all  in  one.      Dr. , 

was  not  only  revered,  as  a  minister,  but,  in  every  fami- 
ly, welcomed,  as  a  bosom  friend. 

'A  religious  pastor,  indeed,  never  fully  knows  the 
comforts  of  his  office,  till  he  is  thus  unite  d  to  his  people, 
u  till  he  knows  his  sheep,  and  the)-  follow  him."  In 
such  an  intimacy,  hearts  expand  ;  many  excellent 
and  seasonal.de  advices  may  be  given  which  the  solem- 
nity of  the  pulpit  would  not  admit  ;  little  griefs  are  un- 
bosomed ;  little  perplexities  are  removed,  and  affection 
springs  up  by  the  side  of  duty. 

i  am  going  to  make  a  visit  to  this  worthy  clergyman, 
and  will  give  you  the  earliest  intelligence  of  the  state 
in  which  I  find  him. 

LETTER  XCV. 

THE    apprehension   concerning   Br. were 

but  too  well  founded.  He  is  I  do  btlieve,  in  the  last 
stage  of  life.     Death  is  on  the  point  of  closing  his  eyes, 

*  The  father  of  Louisa. 


172  LETTERS  Td  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

and  opening  for  him  the  just  reward  of  all  his  labours 
and  his  zeal. 

1  have  been  with  him  almost  night  and  day,  ever 
since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  writing  to  you,  and  have  re- 
ceived a  strenger  lesson,  than  ever,  of  the  vanity  of  all 
earthly  things,  and  the  supreme  dignity  of  virtue. 

These  solemn  sctnes  wonderfully  improve  the  heart. 
They  strip  ambition  of  its  plumage.  The  world  appears 
a  phantom  !  honours  and  promotions  all  a  dream  ! 

Though  I  have  been  much  affected,  yet  I  have  been 
comforted,  in  an  equal  degree,  by  his  cheerful  piety, 
and  edifying  conversation.  His  faith  and  resignation 
rise  superior  to  his  pains.  They  are  literally  big  with 
immortality  ;  and  he  longs  to  be  dissolved  and  to  be 
with  Christ. 

Unwcarh  d  and  exemplary  as  he  has  always  been  m 
the  discharge  of  his  pastoral  duties,  he  is  continually  la- 
^knting  his  want  of  zeal,  vigilance  and  exertion.  The 
duties  of  the  ministry  are,  I  do  believe,  beyond  human 
ability  :  u  Who  said  St.  Paul,  is  sufficient  for  these 
things  V9  But  when  I  hear  the  declarations  of  this  ex- 
lent  man,  and  compare,  as  it  is  natural,  his  example 
With  my  own,  I  cannot  but  be  seriously  alarmed,  and 
sketch  out  nothing  for  my  own  last  moments,  but  re- 
morse atsd  fears. 

My  good  friend  and  his  lady  have  taken  their  last 
leave.  It  would  have  touched  any  heart  to  have  seen 
this  interview.  I  cannot  do  it  justice  by  words.  The 
pencil  of  a  Raphael  could  not  fully  represent  it.  It  was 
all  heart  and  soul.  Silent  looks  and  manner  were  the 
principal  language,  and  they  spoke  indeed  !  Such  a  wo- 
man's breast  panting  with  grief,  upon  such  an  occasion, 
nses  above  the  powers  of  description. 

M  O  !  (says  the  expiring  christian,  raising  his  languid 
eyes  and  endeavouring  to  use  a  tongue,  which  death 
had  almost  palsied)  be  as  you  have  been,  the  comforters 
of  my  people  (for  they  alas!  will  feel  a  transient  void) 
and  our  friendship,!  doubt  not,  will  shortly  be  renew- 
ed in  another  life.     Death  can  onlv  for   a   little   time. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  1/3 

separate  these  bodies  :  Oar  real  interests,  our  soulo 
and  happiness  must  ever  be  united.' ' 

Louisa  is  inconsolable.  u  rl'ears  have  been  her  meat 
day  and  night  jw  and  htr  grief  is  the  heat  k-r,  as  she  is 
not  permitted,  from  motives  of prud  nee,  to  see  the  last 
struggles  of  this  excellent  man,  or  receive  his  bLessipg. 

u  Providence,  (says  th1  accomplished  girl)  has  norj 
but  one  heavier  stroke  to  inflict,  and  that  is  the  death 
oi  mv  father,  or  my  mother.  Indeed  a  sacwid  father 
he  has  always  been  to  me  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the 
word.  What  has  not  this  good  man  done,  what  has  he 
not  evey  said,  to  train  my  useful  sentiments  to  virtue* 
and  direct  my  steps  in  the  ways  of  peace  ?  To  him  I 
could  disclose  every  rising  fear.  To  him  I  could  un- 
bosom the  anxious  sorrow,  that  would  have  lurked  at 
my  heart.  But  why  should  i  complain?  Have  1  not 
still  a  thousand  comforts,  spread  around  .my  retiremeu;? 
Have  I  not  yet  two  parents  left,  accomplished,  as  they 
are  tender,  and  watchful,  as  they  are  good  ?  It  is  im- 
proper  to  grieve.  I  will  dry  these  tears.  It  is  the 
Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good.  The  good 
Abraham  was  required  to  Sacrifice,  on  the  altar,  with 
his  own  hands,  an  only  son.  And  I  shoukl surely  lean* 
to  resign  without  murmuring,  whenever  it  shall  seem* 
meet  to  his  wisdom  and  goodness,  the  nearest  friend.'' 


LETTER  XCVI. 

THE  conflict  13  finished.    The  pangs  are  over.    Dr. 

i5  no  more.      Ke  is  now  I  trust  a  blessed  spiri% 

and  knows  no  longtr  pain,  or  sorrow  or  apprehension.' 

From  the  natural  tmderntss  and  sensibility  of  his 
temper  you  may  wonder,  that  he  lived  and  died  unmar- 
ried. But  it  is  a  secret  known  only  to  his  intimate 
friends,  that  he  had  formed  an  attachment,  in  his  earl/ 
years,  which  being  disappointed  by  the  death  of  the  la- 
dy, the  delicacy  of  his  mind  never  afterwards  admitted 
of  another.  His  partiality  was  not  of  the  common,  hi- 
giuve  kind.  It  was  a  deep  and  permanent  impression^ 
£   2. 


17-t  LETTERS    TO    A    YOU  No    LAB*. 

Having  once   fondly  loved,  he   attempted   to  love  no 
more. 

As  his  private  fortune  was  comfortable,  and  his  pre- 
ferment good,  you  will  conclude,  perhaps,  that  he  died 
very  rich.  Bat  this  is  not  the  case.  The  poor  were 
constantly  fed  from  his  table,  as  well  as  edified  by  his 
counsels.  He  was  a  living  example  of  the  charity  he 
recommended,  and  a  witness  of  the  truth,  "  that  it  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  receive." 

Though  remarkable  for  his  prudence,  as  well  as  pas- 
toral zeal,  yet  having  but  a  few  distant  relatives,  who 
were  all  in  very  easy  circumstances,  he  has  only  left  to 
each,  an  equal  legacy  of  /.  iuO  ;  and  the  remainder  of 
the  /.5O0O,  he  possessed,  is  entirely  devoted  to  charita- 
ble uses. 

To  each  of  his  three  servants,  he  has  bequeathed  an 
annual  stipend  of /.20,  on  this  easy  condition,  however, 
that  they  be  never  absent  when  in  heahh,  from  the  church 
or  sacrament  ;  that  they  always  appear  neat  and  de- 
cent, and  that  they  lay  up,  from  their  pittance,  one  sin- 
gle six  pence  on  the  first  day  of  every  week,  to  be  ex- 
pended in  charity.  The  residue  of  his  fortune  is  to  be 
employed,  partly  in  establishing  a  fund  for  the  distribu- 
tion of  religious  books  and  tracts,  amongst  the  poor  and 
,goorant  of  his  parish,  at  the  discretion  of  the  minister  ; 
and  partly,  for  the  clothing  and  educating  a  specific 
number  of  boys  and  girls  in  a  school,  which  he  had 
founded,  and  very  principally  supported,  in  his  life- 
time. 

My  friend  and  I  are  joint  executors.  To  him  he  ha9 
demised  a  considerable  part  of  his  excellent  library  ;  to 
me  a  number  of  books,  which  are  at  once  a  monument 
of  his  taste  and  frien  lship  ;  to  Mrs. ,  all  the  ele- 
gant furniture  of  his  drawing-room,  and  to  his  sweet, 
and  as  he  styles  her,  ever  dear  Louisa,  his  pictures,  sta- 
tues, busts  and.  petrefactions,  beside  a  number  of  devo- 
tional authors,  gilt  and  finished  with  an  elegance  and 
beauty,  which  express  the  opinion  he  had  justly  con: 
eeived  of  her  cultivated  mind. 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  175 

When  the  poor  girl  was  informed  of  this  legacy,  she 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  nor  could  all  the  tender  of- 
fices of  her  friends  console  her.  u  How  insupportable, 
(said  she)  is  this  man's  generosity  !  with  what  a  cruel 
kindness  dots  he  haunt  me  after  death  !  Had  it  not  been 
for  this  perhaps,  I  should  more  easily  have  learned  the 
hard  lesson  of  resignation.  But  this  tenderness  renews 
my  grief,  and  tears  open  afresh  the  wounds,  which  I 
have  been  summoning  all  my  fortitude  to  close.  But 
why  must  must  1  not  see  this  crood  man  on  his  death- 
bed, to  testify,  for  the  last  time-,  the  warmth  of  my  gra- 
titude, and  the  sincerity  of  my  esteem  ? ' 

M  But  tell  me,  ye,  who  were  admitted  to  his  pres- 
ence, what  said  he  of  me,  in  his  latest  moments  ?  Did 
he,  then,  at  all  recollect  his  Louisa  ?  Did  he  even  glance 
at  so  humble  a  name  ?  Did  he  send  me  one  precious 
word  of  advice  ?  Did  he  conjure  me  never  to  forget  his 
directions  ?  Did  he  bid  me  to  be  virtuous,  did  he  bid 
me  to  be  happy  ?  Yes,  blessed  spirit,  I  will  remember 
thy  example  ;  I  will  treasure  up  thy  counsels.  Thy 
instructions  shall  never  fade.  Thy  memory  shall  be 
immortal." 

And,  nouT,  what  is  your  opinion  of  Louisa  ?  What 
think  you  of  such  a  clergyman  ?  What  are  dignities, 
compared  with  such  virtues  ?  What  are  kingdoms,  con- 
trasted with  such  joys  ;  Should  not  history  enbalm  hii 
relics,  and  should  not  gratitude  pour  over  his  undying 
memory,  an  undying  perfume  ? 

LETTER  XCVII. 

I  REJOICE  to  hear  that  you  have  so  great  a  taste 
for  paintings.  You  will  find  it  an  inexhaustible  source 
of  pleasure  and  improvement.     For, 

H  Each  pleasing  art  lends  softness  to  our  minds, 
41  And  with  our  studies,  are  our  lives  renVd." 

i  will  give  you  a  very  handsome  eulogy  on  this  art,  in 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

the  W<  g^at  writer,  Quintilian.   ct  Picture,  (says 

■  and  uniform  a  Idress, yet  penetrates  so  deep- 
ly ir.to  our  inmost  affections,  that  it  seems  often  to  ex- 
ceed even  the  powers  of  eloquence.  Its  effects,  indeed, 
metimes  amazing.  It  is  said,  that  Alexander 
trembled  and  grew  pah-,  on  seeing  a  picture  of  Pah  me- 
des,  betrayed  to  death  by  his  friends  ;  it  bringing  to 
his  mind  a  slinging  remembrance  of  his  treatment  of 
Aristonicus.  Portia  could  bear,  with  an  unshaken  con- 
stancy, her  last  separation  from  Brutus  ;  but  when  she 
saw,  some  hours  after,  a  picture  of  die  parting  of  Hec- 
tor  an  1  Andromache,  she  bur-it  into  a  fluod  of  tears. — 
Full  as  seemed  her  sorrow,  the  painter  suggested  hew 
ideas  of  grief|Or  impressed  more  strongly  her  own." 

Your  question  concerning  the  superiority  of  the  an- 
rients  or  moderns  in  this  particular,  is  very  easily  ans- 
wered. In  most,  if  not  ail  the  fine  arts,  indeed,  the  for- 
mer, according  to  my  apprehension,  are  absolutely  unri- 
vailed.  By  the  ancients,  I  no:u  mean,  particularly  the 
Gre<  ks. 

Whether  it  was  Owing  to  the  particular  nature  and 
Ijeedom  of  their  government — to  the  superior  honors 
and  encouragement  th.it  were  lavished  on  genius  and 
the  arts  in  this  more  early  period  of  society — whether 
to  any  particular  superiority  of  organization  in  the  na- 
tives of  thi »  country — whether  to  its  beautiful  scenery 
or  the  allegorical  nature  of  a  religion,  which  so  much 
called  painting,  poetry,  and  sculp.ure  into  exercise— or 
whether  we  mayT  not  ascribe  it  to  an  h.-.ppy  combination 
of  all  these  separate  causes,  it  is  certain,  that  their  taste 
and  imagination  were  exquisite  beyond  those  of  any 
other  people,  and  produced  a  degree  of  excellence  in 
their  artists,  that  we  cannot  find  in  any  other  age  or 
country  of  the  world. 

Raphael,  whom  all  Europe  has  so  much  praised,  ex- 
celled only,  as  he  formed  himself  upon  the  model  of  the 
Greeks.  The  Italians,  (observes  an  able  judge,)  may 
excel  in  colouring  ;  but  composi-ion,  drawing,  the  art 
of  grouping,  attitude,  movement,  expression,   contrast, 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  1 77 

drapery,  character  and  grace — all  these,  this  great  gen- 
ius confessedly  borrowed  from  the  ancient  statues  and 
bas-reliefs. 

Palladio  is  the  first  of  architects,  Michael  Angelo, 
Fiammingo,  Algardi,  the  most  celebra'ed  sculptors,  on- 
ly for  the  same  reason  ;  they  studied  the  Greeks.  Yet 
Angelo  was  the  boldest  genius  that  Italy  ever  had.  M  It 
was  he,  who  conceived  the  idea  of  placing  the  pantheon 
in  the  air,  and  constructed  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  on 
the  same  dimensions." 

Nor  in  letters  were  the  Greeks  less  the  model  of  per- 
fection. To  emulate  their  best  writers  has  been  the 
ambition  of  every  succeeding  age.  And  excellence  has 
been  attained  only  in  proportion  to  the  successfulness 
of  this  imitation. 

The  first  and  most  complete  poem  in  the  world  is 
Grecian — the  Iliad  of  Homer.  It  unites  all  the  separ- 
ate, astonishing  excellencies  of  this  most  difficult  spe- 
cies of  composition  ;  the  majestic,  the  terrible,  the  pa- 
thetic and  the  sublime.  Naturalists,  philosophers,  pain- 
ters, poets,  orators,  metaphysicians  have  all,  in  various 
methods,  dug  from  this  mine,  and  still  left  it  full  of  in- 
exhaustible treasures.  It  is  proverbially  known  how 
much  the  great  Roman  orator  studied  Homer,  and  in- 
deed how  much  he  has  been  praised  by  the  whole  world. 
I  will  give  you  a  few  testimonies  in  his  favor. 

The  first  critic,  that  ever  existed,  is  Longinus,  who 
wrote  a  treatise  on  the  Sublime  !  This  is  his  opinion  of 
4ke  Iliad  ? 

41  Those  onlv,  who  have  sublime  and  solid  thoughts, 
can  make  elevated  discourses,  and,  in  this  part,  Homer 
chiefly  excels,  whose  thoughts  are  all  sublime,  as  may 
be  seen  in  the  description  of  the  goddess,  Discord,  who 
has,  says  he,  her  head  in  the  skies,  and  her  feet  upon 
earth  ;  for  it  may  be  said,  that  that  grandeur  which  he 
gives  her,  is  less  the  measure  of  discord,  than  of  the  ca- 
pacity and  elevation  of  Homer's  genius. 

Treatise  on  the  Sublime* 


178         LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

Again  in  another  place  :  "  To   Homer,  that  i 
him,   who  had   received   the  applauses   of  the  whole 
world." 

And,  in  a  third  passage,  mentioning  the  number  of 

men,  who  had  endeavoured  to  imitate  Homer,  he  ob* 
serves  : 

u  Plato,  however,  is  he,  who  has  imitated  him  most, 
for  he  has  drawn  from  this  poet,  as  from  a  living  spring, 
from  which  he  has  turned  an  infinite  number  of  rivu- 
lets." 

*  Another  excellent  judge  is  Horace,  who  bea?s  to 
this  prince  of  poets,  this  honorable  testimony,  that  he 
taught  philosophy  better  than  many,  who  were  philoso- 
phers by  profession, 

A  third  critic  of  no  inconsiberable  talents  has  these' 
lints  in  his  favor  : 

On  diroit  que  pour  plaire  instruit  psr  la  nature 
Homere  ait  a  Venus  derobe"  sa  ctinture  ; 
Son  livre  est  d'agremens  un  fertile  tresor, 
Tout  ce  q u'il  a  touche  se  convertit  enor. 

Pope's  opinion  of  him  it  is  not  nece^ary  to  recite  ; 
and  the  Jerusalem  Delivered  of  a  great  author,  is,  from 
beginning  to  end,  a  tacit  comment  on,  for  it  is  an  at- 
tempt to  imitate,  his  greatness. 

Let  me  not  omit  the  compliment  of  Dante,  for  it  is 
worth  recording  : 

Q;egTi  e  Omero  poeta  soyrano 
Signor  dell'  altissumo  canto 
Che  sovra  gli  altri,  come  Aquila,  vola. 

The  best  writers  of  the  Augustan  age  of  Rome  form- 
ed themselves  considerably  on  Grecian  model*.  '1  he 
perfect  authors  in  England,  France  and  Italy  ; 
Addison,  Pope,  Racine,  Botieau,  Tasso  and  Metas- 
tatic, took  the  same  method  to  arrive  at  perfection  ;  and 
one  migUt  challenge  the   whole  vvoild   to   produce  any 


LETTERS   TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  179 

other  poem,  like  the  Iliad  ;  an  orator,  equal  to  Demos- 
thenes ;  such  a  finished  tragedy  as  the  Oedipus  of  So- 
phocles ;  any  figure  in  marble,  like  the  Belvedere  Apol- 
lo ;  such  fine  and  light  drapery,  as  that  of  the  Flora,  or 
a  female  beautv  as  perfect  as  the  Venus  of  Medici. 

The  great  Montesquieu  was,  for  some  time,  in  Italvr 
and,  as  you  may  suppose,  no  superficial  observer.  This 
was  his  decision  concerning  the  Greeks.  "  Taste  and 
the  arts  have  been  carried  by  them  to  such  an  height,' 
that  to  think  to  surpass,  would  be  always  not  to  know 
them.'7 

I  have  been  thus  diffuse  on  a  subject,  that  may  ap- 
pear, but  ?9,  by  no  means,  foreign  to  your  improve- 
ment, or  above  your  comprehension,  merely  that  you 
might  form  just  ideas  in  your  favourite  art  ;  that  you 
might  know  why  we  say  so  much  of  classic  or  ancient 
writers  ;  and  why  every  person  should  emulate  their 
manner,  who  wishes,  even  by  a  single  sentence,  to  please. 
I  will  close  this  letter  with  adding  my  oivn  grateful  tri- 
bute to  the  venerable  shade  of  a  bard,  that  so  much 
delighted  my  early  years,  and  yet  fills  me  with  a  pleas- 
ing enthusiasm,  every  time  I  peruse  him.  I  will  use 
the  words  of  a  French  writer. 

Recois  Teloge  pur,  Thommage  merite  ; 
Je  le  dois  a  ton  nom,  comme  a  la  verite. 

Art  de  la  Guerre. 

Receive  this  pure  spplause,  this  homage  due 
To  thy  great  name,  because  1  know 'tis  true* 


LETTER  XCVIII. 

THE  Italians  excel  in  some  of  the  fine  arts.  In 
music,  perhaps,  they  may  justly  claim  a  decisive  supe- 
riority.   Of  colouring  they  are  great  masters.    Amongst 

many  other  distinguished  painters,  they  boast  a  Correg- 
gin.  No  one  could  do  more  honor  10  any  nation.  He 
is  the  very  pupil  of  nature,  and  lias  wonderfully   united 


180  LITTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

elegance  and  ease.     If  Raphael   shines  in   the  maji 
he  has  all  the  soft  and  amiable  graces. 

In  landscape  painting,  Italy  is  unrivalled.  Those  of 
Claude  Lorrain,  are  superior  to  any  other  master's. 
Perhaps  one  reason  is,  the  beauty  of  the  scenes,  from 
which  they  are  taken.  Viewed  collectively,  there  is 
not,  I  should  conceive,  a  more  delightful  and  enchant- 
ing country.  It  seems  to  mingle  all  the  soft  and  mild- 
er beauties  of  climate,  with  the  magnificent  and  tre- 
mendous ;  gentle  hills,  rich  vallies,  fruitful  extensive 
vineyards,  with  craggy,  rugged  precipices,  with  the 
portentuous  aspect  and  caverns  of  jfctna  ;  the  bay  of 
Naples,  with  the  formidable  grandeur  and  thunder  of 
Vesuvio. 

Noplace  has  been  the  scene  of  so  many  memorable 
events  or  given  birth  to  such  a  number  of  distinguish- 
ed men.  Tuscany  produced  Dante,  Petrarch,  and  Mi- 
chael Angelo  :  Livy  was  born  at  Padua  ;  Titian  at  Ve- 
nice, and  Ariosto  at  Ferrara.  Urbino  13  justly  proud 
of  Raphael,  and  Parma  of  Correggio.  Rome  claims 
Tacitus  and  Lucretius  ;  Arpinum,  Cicero,  and  Venu- 
sium,  Horace. 

If  my  leisure  and  opportunities  had  been  equal  to 
my  wishes,  I  should  have  gloried  in  traversing  this 
country.  Every  step  would  have  had  a  peculiar  inter- 
est, and  every  scene  revived  those  glowing  descriptions 
of  a  Virgil  or  an  Horace,  that  fascinated  my  earliest 
years.  When  a  person  has  been  some  time  in  the 
world,  whatever  recalls  the  frit  days  of  life,  adminis- 
ters the  sweetest  pleasure.  It  is  the  picture  of  inno- 
cence and  tranquility,  whilst  our  maturer  age  is  often  a 
bustle  or  a  storm. 

In  ancient  Rome,  it  was  a  confessed  maxim,  that  true 
politeness  and  taste  were  derived  from  the  Grecians. 
And  the  Italian  artists  still  owe  much  of  their  excel- 
lence to  the  primitive  masters. 

The  literary  taste  of  the   Italians  is  very  exceptiona- 
ble.     It  is  a  false  sublime,  a  fictitious  glitter,  and  a  bar- ' 
reu  abundance,  and   has  lost  the  true  Attic  salt  of  na- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  181 

tare,  of  truth  and  simplicity.  Hence  they  are  said  to 
prefer  the  go. hie  works  of  Dante,  the  absurdities  of  A- 
riosto,  the  extravagances  of  Marini,  and  the  tinsel  pu- 
erilities of  Tasso,  to  the  tender  and  impassioned  de- 
scriptions of  Metastasio. 

The  French  seem  to  think  themselves  exclusive  pro- 
prietors  of  every  tiling,  that  goes  under  the  denomina- 
tion  of  taste.  And,  indeed,  they  are  universally  es- 
teemed a  polished,  easy,  graceful  and  seducing  people. 
Few  of  their  writers,  h>wever,  hive  mu  h  of  the  pro- 
found, or  ihat  bids  fair  for  duration.  Of  all  people,  they 
seem  least  to  hive  studied  the  class  ids*  Their  style,  in 
general,  wants  energy  and  compactness.  In  many  words 
they  communicate  hutfeiv  ideas,  and  their  imagination 
is  permirted  to  run  wild  without  hearkening  to  the  so- 
ber dictates  of  judgment.  Though  trees  in. blossom  arc 
a  beautiful  object,  yet  the  solid  advantage  lies  in  their 
fnut.  I  could  except  many  great  names  from  this,  up- 
parently,  invidious  censure.  One,  particularly,  I  will 
mention  -that  is  Montesquieu.  This  man  will  do 
them  honor  with  all  other  nations,  and  the  most  distant 
posterity.  His  Esprit  de  Lnix  is,  indeed,  a  most  aston- 
ishing performance.  It  unites  the  depth,  the  phlegm 
and  patience  of  some  other  countries,  with  the  vivacity 
of  that,  in  which  it  sprung. 

I  do  not  think  that  England  is,  bv  any  means,  either 
from  climate,  or  other,  fostering  circumstances,  the  nat- 
ural  soil  of  the  fine  arts.  The  hot  bed  of  riches  it  is 
true,  has  raised  a  few  exotics,  in  this  way  to  a  superior 
flawr ;  and  public  encouragement  called  for  b  many 
virtuosos  from  other  countries.  But,  in  fact,  we  arc 
too  much  engaged  with  trade  an  1  politics  to  cultivate, 
in  any  extraordinary  degree,  the  finer  emotion  ;.  C  ;m- 
mercial  habits,  manufactures,  and  the  love  of  money, 
wherever  they  prevail,  will  always  be  the  grave  <  f  $/>• 
tue  and  of  iarte.  In  point  of  polite  teaming,  thi;  k  .:  ;- 
dom  has,  long  since,  according  to  mv  upprehen  i on, 
been  at  its  zenith.  The  sun  of  its  Augusran  age  ap- 
pears to  be  set.     But  for  profound  kaowL  .l.j  •  and  g  n- 

Q 


182         LLTTERS  TO  A  YOU\  G  LADY. 

ills,  donation,  peihaps  in  the  known  world  has  been 
more  distinguished,  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Locke,  Sir 
Uaac  Newton  !  what  other  country  ca  »  produce  such  a 
group?  Nor  shall  we  want  models  cf  the  most  graceful 
in  writing,  whilst  we  can  read  the  works  of  Addison, 
many  papers  in  the  world,  the  Letters  of  Lady  Wort- 
lev  Montague,  or  those  of  Chesterfield. 

I  do  not  mean  to  deny,  but  that  general  science  is 
.more  cultivated  amongst  the  moderns,  than  it  ever  was 
by  the  ancients,  and,  in  the  present  age,  more  than  at 
any  former  period  whatever.  Natural  philosophy  in  all 
its  branches,  chemistry,  mathematics,  history,  politics, 
jurisprudence,  and  the  mechanical  arts  have  arrived  to 
a  wonderful  degree  of  perfection,  and  are  daily  receiv- 
ing frcbh  accessions  of  improvement.  But  I  must  still 
as  ert,  that  polite  learning  seems  to  have  flourished  most 
in  the  days  of  Swift,  Pope  and  Addison.  What  can  be 
the  reason  ?  Is  it  that  being  then  more  new,  as  having 
but  just  emerged  from  the  darkness  of  the  times,  it  was 
treated  with  that  superior  respect  and  deference,  we  ex- 
tend to  a  stranger  ?  Is  there  a  greater  dearth  of  real 
genius  ?  That  we  cannot  suppose,  if  we  give  ourselves 
only  leisure  to  consider  the  many  exalted  characters, 
which  Britain  boasts.  The  case,  I  think,  is  clear,  that 
a  most  extended  commerce  has  debased  our  feelings 
and  vitiated  our  taste  ;  that  the  grand,  political  interests 
of  the  nation,  as  it  is  now  circumstanced,  require  a 
most  unremitting  attention  ;  that  the  high  road  to 
honours  and  emoluments  chiefly  lying  through  the  bar 
or  senate,  the  greatest  talents  in  the  kingdom  are  turn- 
ed into  these  channels.  Men  rather  choose  t®  wrangle 
and  debate  themselves  into  affluence  and  titles,  than 
starve  on  the  mere  shadowy  fame  of  an  elegant  produc- 
tion. 

Wherever  there  is  hope  of  patronage,  genius  springs 
of  course  ;  and  though  his  present  Majesty  has  always 
been  a  liberal  encourager  of  polite  knowledge,  yet  no- 
thing can  effectually  counteract  the  wide,  and  most  un- 
limited agency  of  this  national  situation. 


LETTERS    TO    A   YOUNG    LADY.  183 

Many  writers,  in  our  Augustan  age,  arrived  by  their 
labours  merely,  not  only  to  considerable  affluence,  but 
to  high  distinctions.  They  were  caressed  and  honour- 
ed in  the  most  fashionable  circles.  To  reward  and  pat- 
ronize talents,  was  a  glory  and  a  pride.  It  is  very  ob- 
servable, that  all  the  great,  literary  characters  of  the 
prevent  times,  who  were  born  nearest  to  the  period, 
which  I  have  described,  retain  most  of  this  liberal  pat~ 
ionizing  spirit.  I  could,  with  great  truth  and  feeling 
mention  some  names,  if  situation  and  peculiar  circum- 
stances would  not  expose  me  to  Xhe  false  suspicion  of 
intending  to  pronounce  fulsome  panegyrics.  But  will 
not  the  whole  world  acquit  me  of  partiality,  if  I  glance 

at  such  illurtrious  names  as  the  A b p  of  Y — k, 

the  present  Lord  C 1 r,  or  the  Earl  of  M s- 

f d  i 

LETTER  XCIX. 

YOUR  knowledge  of  the  Italian  language  is  much 
superior  to  my  own.  The  little  that  I  have,  was  ac- 
quired merely  to  read  a  few  productions  of  their  best 
authors,  and  be  able  to  form  some  comparative  idea  of 
-their  merits  or  defects. 

I  am  far  from  denying  to  this  people  the  praise  of 
great  genius.  But  I  should  suppose,  that  it  is  not  pro- 
perly cultivated,  and  the  reason,  perhaps,  may  b*,  that, 
in  modern  Italy,  learning  meets  but  with  little  encour- 
agement. 

The  bad  taste  of  the  Italians  in  poetry,  is  obvious 
from  many  instanced.  Dante,  in  their  estimation,  is 
superior  to  a//  men  ;  and  Ariosto,  whom  they  consider 
as  much  beneath  him,  they  exalt  far  above  Homer  him- 
self. 

Dante  had,  doubtless,  wonderful  abilities.  He  rises, 
in  many  instances,  to  the  sublime  ;  and,  for  the  times, 
in  which  he  lived,  may  justly  be  considered  as  a  litera- 
ry prodigy.  But  his  work,  on  thewhole,  is  but  a  gothic 
roase  of  various  kinds  of  knowledge  strangely  heaped 


1R4  LETTFRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

together  without  arrangement,  design,  or  perspicuity. 
To  compare  him  with  the  author  of  the  Iliad,  is  to  be- 
tray a  toral  want  of  nil  the  principles  of  enlightened 
criticism. 

Ariosto  shines  in  narrative.  He  tells  a  story  with 
gracefulness  and  ease.  Some  of  I113  descriptions  are 
particularly  splendid  ;  and  his  Orlando  Furioso  is  a 
lively,  and  wonderfully  various  production.  But  how 
frtqutntlv  does  he  fall  into  ridiculous  absurdities,  where 
he  entirely  loses  sight  of  nature  and  of  truth,  forgetting 
that  excellent  rule  of  a  judicious  critic  : 

Tout  doit  tendre  au  bon  sens  : 
Bien  n'est  beau  que  le  vrai,  le  vrai  seul  est  amiable. 

Let  s  nse  be  ever  in  your  view, 
Nothing  is  beautiful^  that  is  not  true  ; 
The  true  alone  is  lovely. 

Tasso's  Gerusalemme  Liberata  has,  indisputably,  great 
merit.  The  subject  is  grand,  and  very  happily  chosen  ; 
the  language,  elrgant  ;  the  versification,  harmonious  : 
but  who  can  say,  that  it  does  not  abound  with  false 
thoughts,  with  infinite  instances  of  playing  upon  rvords^ 
and  a  piodigious  quantity  of  tinsel,  or  that  it  is  not,  in 
the  main,  disfigured  with  low  conceits,  and  trifling  pu- 
erilities. 

No  Itnlian  writer  interests  so  much,  or  has  so  nicely 
developed  the  human  heart,  as  Metastaaio.  He  had 
great  advantages  by  being  introduced,  at  an  early  peri- 
od  of  his  life,  into  the  family  of  the  celebrated  Gravina, 
and  there  learning  to  explode  the  false  taste  of  his  coun- 
try :  He  formed  himself  on  the  mcdrl  of  the  ancients. 
He  took  Boileau  and  Horace  for  his  guides,  and  tew 
men  have  succeeded  better  in  painting  tender  scenes,  or 
leaving  a  durable  impression  on  the  heart.  Read  his 
Canzonettes,  particularly  that  which  begins  with  Grazio 
agi9  inganni  iuoi ;  and  tell  me  whether  I  have  formed 
an  improper  judgment. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  135 


LETTER  C. 

I  HAVE  now  finished  my  recommendation  of  au- 
thors. I  am  apprehensive,  indeed,  of  having  mention- 
ed too  many.  Bat  from  the  whale  yo<i  can  se'ect  the 
few,  you  like,  or  which  it  is  most  convenient  for  you  to, 
purchase. 

Some  of  these  books,  particnla-ly  those,  which  treat 
on  religious  subjr cts,  may  not  entertain  you  so  much  at 
present,  as  thev  will  at  some  future  period,  when  your 
taste  and  judgment  are  more  effectually  ripened  :  but  I 
did  not  know  whether  then  I  might  have  the  opportuni- 
ty of  writing  to  you,  f)r  whether  I  should  even  be  in  the 
world  ;  and  i  wished  to  give  you  something  of  a  syste- 
matic plan,  that  might  be  consulted  through  every  stage 
of  your  life. 

The  criticisms  upon  hooks,  characters,  Sec  have  not 
been  introduced  from  a  fastidious  spirit,  or  with  a  view 
of  displaying  learning  and  talents,  but  to  exercise  and 
improve  your  discriminating  faculties,  and  enliven  the, 
ofherxvisc,  dull  uniformly  of  didactic  letters.  I  have 
only  presumed  to  give  my  opinion  :  and  to  this,  in  a 
land  of  liberty,  and  in  an  enlighuned  age,  I  conceive 
mvself  to  have  an  equal  right  with  the  first  scholar,  or 
critic  of  the  world. 

Louiva,  you  well  know,  is  not  a  fictitious,  but  a  real 
character  ;  and,  though  my  partialit}  may  have  heigh- 
tened her  merit,  yet  after  all,  it  is  inexpressibly  great  : 
and  I  introduced  her,  as  a  pattern  of  female  graces, 
merely  to  avoid  the  formality  of  precepts,  and  the  au- 
thoritative airs  of  a  teacher.  I  considered  this  mode, 
as  likely  to  communicate  some  little  interest  and  variety 
to  my  letters  ;  and  that  appeared  to  me  a  motive,  which, 
with  all  young  people,  should  be  consulted, 

On  the  whole,  consider  me  not  as  dogmatizing,  but 
only  as  communicating  to  you,  with  great  freedom  and 
sincerity,  the  best  sentiments,  I  can  ;  those,  which  con-, 
vince  your  understanding,  receive   with  candour  ;  xhc 


186  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUKC    LADY. 

rest  reject,  and  do  not  fancy  me  so  conceited,  as  even 
for  a  moment,  to  have  persu  ided  myself  that  from  my 
tribunal,  there  lies  no  appeal. 


LETTER  CI. 

MY    DEAR     I UCY, 

IF  I  was  called  upon  to  write  the  history  of  a  ivo* 
nan**  trials  and  sorrows,  I  would  date  it  from  the  mo- 
ment  when  nature  his  pronounced  her  marriageable^ 
and  she  feels  that  innocent  desire  of  associating  with 
the  other  sex,  which  needs  not  a  blush.  If  I  had  a  girl 
of  my  own,  at  this  critical  age,  I  should  be  full  of  the 
keenest  apprehensions  for  her  safety  ;  and,  like  the  great 
poet,  when  the  tempter  was  bent  on  seducing  our  first 
parents  from  their  innocence  and  happiness,  I  should 
invoke  the  assistance  of  some  guardian  angel,  to  con- 
duct her  through  the  slippery  and  dangerous  paths. 

You  must  remember  the  passage  : 

"  O  for    that   warning  voice,  which  he,  who  heard/' 

Marriage  is,  doubtless,  the  most  natural,  innocent 
and  useful  state,  if  you  can  form  it  to  any  tolerable  ad- 
vantage. It  bids  fairest  for  that  little  portion  of  happi- 
ness, which  this  life  admits  ;  and  is,  in  some  degree,  a 
duty  which  we  owe  to  the  world.  If  entered  into  from 
proper  motives,  it  is  a  source  of  the  greatest  benefits  to 
the  community,  as  well  as  of  private  comfort  to  our- 
selves. What  are  the  highest  blessings,  unsweetened 
by  society  ?  How  poignant  are  many  sorrows  of  life, 
without  a  friend  to  alleviate  and  divide  them  !  How 
many  are  the  moments,  how  rruny  are  the  exigencies, 
in  which  we  want  sympathy,  tenderness, attention  !  And 
what  is  a  moping  individual  to  the  world,  compared 
wi.h  the  woman  who  acts  in  the  tender  character  of  a 
wife,  or  parent,  and,  by  a  religious  culture  of  an  oiFs- 
pring,  is  training  up  inhabitants  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

A  single  woman  is,  particularly,  defenceless.     She 


LLTTFRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  187 

cannot  move  beyond  the  precincts  of  her  house  without 
apprehensions.  She  c  moot  go  with  ease  or  safety,  in- 
to public.  She  is  surrounded  with  many  real  dangers, 
and  fancy  conjures  up  more  spectres  of  its  own,  to  dis- 
turb her  repose; 

As  she  g oes  down  the  hill  of  life,  her  friends  gradu- 
ally drop  away  from  Iv  r,  like  leaves  in  the  autumn,  and 
leave  her  a  pining,  solitary  creature.  Even  brothers  and 
sisters  when  married  themselves,  lose  their  usual  fond- 
ness for  her,  in  the  ardours  of  a  newly  acquired  connex- 
ion ;  and  she  wanders  through  a  wide,  bustling  world 
uncomfortable  in  herself,  uninteresting  to  others,  fre- 
quently the  sport  of  wanton  ridicule,  or  a  proverb  of 
reproach. 

Men  are  often  too  much  engrossed  with  business, 
ambition,  or  criminal  pursuits,  to  think  very  seriously 
of  this  connexion  ;  but  if  they  happen  to  remain  single^ 
their  very  efforts  become  their  amusement,  and  keep 
them  from  experiencing  that  unquiet  indolence,  which, 
by  enervating  the  mind,  powerfully  awakens  imaginai 
tion  and  the  senses.  A  zvoman  has  abundant  leisure  to 
brood  over  her  inquietude,  and  to  nurse  the  vapors,  till 
they  terminate  in  disease.  She  has  not  so  many  meth- 
ods for  dissipating  thought.  Her  element  is  her  house* 
holdy?ir\&  the  management  of  her  children  ;  and  till  she 
becomes  a  mother,  she  has  not  objects  of  consequence 
enough  to  occupy  the  mind,  and  preserve  it  from  feeling 
unpleasant  agitations. 

I  mean  not,  however,  to  insinuate,  that  there  is  any 
thing  really  reproachful  in  virginity,  unless  a  woman, 
chooses  to  render  it  such,  by  verifying  the  ptigmas, 
which  have  been  fixed  upon  it,  end  substantially,  in, 
her  own  practice,  the  malevolence,  envy,  scandal,  curi- 
osity and  spleen,  which  have,  so  often,  sarcastically  been 
imputed  to  the  sisterhood.  It  may  be,  and,  sometimes, 
is,  the  choice  of  very  amiable  women,  who  would  not 
marry  any,  but  the  man  of  their  affections,  or  with 
whom  they  had  a  rational  prospect  of  happiness  ;  who 
having  been  by  death  or  disappointment  deprived  of  one, 


ib3  LETTERS  TO    A.  YOUNG  L^DY. 

had  a  d-  li-acy,  that  never  al  minted  the  idea  of  a  second, 
attachment,  or  who  w*  re  not  so  devoid  of  principle  and 
taste,  as  to  be  connected  vrith  a  dissolute,  drunken,  or 
abandoned  person,  whatever  might  be  his  foit.ine,  or 
consequence,  or  connexions.  Women,  who  act  from 
such  piinciples,  mav  be  a^  >sed  to  the  indelicate  scoffs 
of  the  licentious,  but  must  hive  the  unreserved  esteem 
and  veneration  of  all  the  sensible  and  the  good. 

ft  should  not,  however,  be  dissembled,  (tor  it  arises 
from  natural  principles,)  »hat  married  women  are  gen- 
erally more  pleasing,  than  such,  as  never  formed  this 
conn-,  xion.  Their  heart  is  continually  r<  fined,  softt  ned 
and  enlarged  by  the  exercise  of  all  the  tender  feelings  to 
an  offspring,  whilst  the  weighty  concerns  of  their  par- 
ti' ular  families  raise  ihem  above  l\\\t  frivolous  insipidi- 
ty, which,  wi*h  whatever  justice,  is  the  proverbial  stig- 
ma of  a  single  state. 

A  married  woman,  likewise,  has  banished  that  shy 
reserve,  which  young  ladies  tnink  themselves,  and,  in- 
deed, in  some  d*  gree  are  obliged  to  practice,  but  which, 
necess  try  as  it  may  be,  conceals  many  of  their  loveliest 
graces.  The  society,  moreover,  of  a  sensible  man,  gives 
to  a  female,  a  richer  fund  of  ideas,  a  superior  mode  of 
thinking  and  acting,  agreeably  tempeis  her  vivacity  with 
seriousness,  and  introduces  her  to  many  improving  ac- 
q  aintances,  an  1  entertaining  circles,  from  which  the 
ceremonious  coldness  of  a  virgin  state,  must  have  kept 
her,  at  an  unapproachable  distance* 

Be  not,  however  disappointed,  if  all  your  merit  and 
amiable n ess  do  not  secure  t<>  y  "»  such  a  connexion,  as 
your    principles  and  judgment  can  approve. 

The  lives  of  young  nen  are  ^o  widomesticated,  and,  in- 
d<.  ed,  so  criminal,  that  deserving  women,  in  the  present 
age,  are  far  from  receiving  those  attentions  and  civili- 
ties, to  which,  on  every  principle. of  justice  and  polite- 
ness, they  are  certainly  entitled. 

In  proportion  as  the  morals  of  men  are  depravecj, 
marriage  will  always  be  unfashionable  and  rare  ;  and 
•-here  are    thousands  amongst   us,    who  have   neither 


LETTERS    TO    A   YOUNG    LADY.  1 89 

knowledge,  sense  or  virtue  enough  to  wish  for  all  that 
delicacy  of  friendship,  sprightlincss  of  conversation  or 
ease  of  manners,  which  only  an  accomplished  woman 
can  bestow,  or  for  those  innocent  domestic  enjoyments, 
which  communicate  the  highest  favour  to,  and  are  the 
grand  and  ultimate  end  of,  an  intercourse  betwixt  the 
sexes. 

Pleas  of  inability  to  support  a  family,  of  the  expen- 
siveness  of  wives,  and  their  propensity  to  splendor  and 
dissipation,  are  used,  I  know,  by  some  to  soften  their 
misconduct,  and  throw  a  flimsv  veil  over  their  crimes. 

This  is  not  a  proper  place  for  reasoning  with  liber- 
tines or  rakes.  Still,  from  their  arguments,  however 
trilling  or  fallacious,  vou  may  deduce  this  useful  lesson  ; 
that  an  extravagant  turn  for  finery  and  show  is  a  great 
disadvantage  to  every  woman  ;  that  it  is  adverse  to  all 
her  happiest  prospects,  and  prevents  not  a  few  from  ev- 
er ad  dressing  her,  who,  in  reality,  might  have  been  the 
most  faithful  and  obliging  companions  through  life.— 
Though  immoral  persons  make  this  apologv,  from  very 
unjustifiable  motives,  yet  many  others,  in  moderate  cir- 
cumstances, m'ght  advance  it  with  truth  ;  who,  though 
they  neither  want  integrity,  knowledge,  nor  a  sensibility 
to  the  charms  and  merit  of  a  woman,  would,  yet,  never 
think  of  degrading  her  to  a  condition,  whi^h  they  con* 
ceive  to  be  beneath  her  wishes  and  her  habits. 

I  have  long  considered  the  immoderate  expensive- 
ness  of  young  ladies,  as,  by  no  means,  favourable  to 
thtir  prospects  or  happiness,  in  any  view.  No  person 
can  take  a  more  certain  method  to  make  a  daughter's 
life  a  scene  of  continual  irritation  and  misfortune,  than 
by  thus  ridiculously  training  h«r  to  high  expectations.— 
It  has  been  the  g:  adual  death  of  many  ;  it  has  made 
the  existence  of  others  a  burden,  heavy  to  be  borne. 
Nor  can  there  even  in  point  of  real  taste,  be  a  greater 
mistake  in  education.  True  dignity  con^isteth  not  in 
tinsel  or  show.  The  nearer  approach  we  can  make  to 
superior  spirits,  is  to  have  as  few  wants,  as  possible, 
whilst  we  inhabit  this  tenement  of  clay. 


190  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 


LETTER  CII. 

IN  your  manner  with  the  sex  at  large,  I  csuld  wish 
you  to  avoid  the  modern  forwardness,  as  well  as  that 
shy  reserve,  which  throws  a  damp  on  all  the  innocent 
gaieties  <•(  life.  The  first  b<*ars  upon  its  face,  a  mascu- 
line indelicacy  ;  the  other  is  the  effect  of  downright 
prudery,  illbreeding,  or  affectation. 

Some  women  affect  a  coldness  in  their  deportment, 
and  act,  as  if  they  supp>se:l  that  every  man.  who  ap- 
proaches them,  had  a  design  on  their  person.  Alas  ! 
how  miserably  are  they  deceived  !  How  ridiculous  is 
the  vanity  which  gives  birth  to  such  conduct  !  Men  are 
so  much  engaged  in  business,  pleasure  and  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  world,  that  the  conquest  of  a  female  heart, 
is  often  thought  beneath  their  ambition.  At  any  rate 
it  is  time  enough  to  be  upon  your  guard,  when  you 
really  perceive  them  bent  on  making  serious  advan- 
ces. 

Many  of  them  will  approach  you  with  flattery.  This, 
they  have  been  led  to  think,  tfor  only,  current  coin,  wi  h 
the  generality  of  females.  If  it  be  not  very  gross,  bear 
it  with  good  humour.  Though  you  may  despise,  do 
not  wantonly  return  it  with  contempt.  This  is  the 
Rjethod  to  make  them  enemas,  and  put  them  on  avoi  l- 
ing  your  society  for  ever.  You  may  easily  be  civil  and 
yet  convince  them  bv  y pur  looks  and  manner,  that  you 
perfectly  understand  how  to  appreciate  indiscriminate 
complaisance. 

Though,  by  no  means  seriously  bent  upon  matrimony^ 
yet  not  a  few  of  ihem,  will  pay  you  flattering  atten- 
tions. These,  if  you  be  not  cautious,  may,  very  insen- 
sibly, soften  your  heart,  and  ensnare  your  affections, 
particularly  if  they  come  from  men,  whose  general  char- 
acter or  manners  you  esteem.  One  caution,  therefore, 
permit  me  to  give  you,  with  an  assurance  that  it  most 
be  religiously  observed,  as  you  value  either  your  dignity 
or  repose — never  to  believe  any  man  in  earnest,  till  he 
makes  the  most  pointed  declarations  in  your  favour* 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  10l 

Fishion  has  made  it  so  much  a  matter  of  form  to  pay 
atrentions  to  a  woman,  and,  particularly,  if  she  is  smart, 
witty,  beautiful  ;  it'  she  is  celebrated  for  high  connex- 
ions, or  accomplishments,  or  makes  a  good  figure  in 
public,  that  numbers  of  men  will  be  mechanically  led  to 
flutter  about  you,  who,  in  fact,  mean  only  to  amuse  the 
moment,  or  do  honour  to  their  own  good  breeding  and 
politeness. 

Believe  me,  my  d.ar  girl,  this  gay  and  lively  season 
will  soon  he  at  an  end.  Girls,  that  dwell  on  every 
body's  tongue,  and  sport  away,  in  all  their  gaudy  col- 
ours, during  summer  months,  like  butterflies,  are  never 
heard  of  in    the   winter,  but  sink  into  a  torpid  state.  — 

Thty  do  not,  however,  resemble  some  insects  in  the 
verv  hippy  and  enviable  privilege  of  rising  with  renew- 
ed charms.  Once  forgotten,  they  seldom  revive,  but 
are  displaced  by  other,  rising  favorites  forever  ;  and  it 
has  often  been  observed,  that  those  women  aie  most 
rarely  thought  of  for  wives,  with  whom  we  are  the  fon- 
dest of  (what  is  called)  flirting,  and  of  sa\  ing  a  thousand 
civil  things,  without  meaning  or  design. 

W  ith  men  of  principle  and  integrity,  you  are  always 
secure.  They  will  religiously  beware  of  eng  tgingyour 
affect  ions,  without  honorable  views*  But  these  alas  ! 
where  women  are  concerned,  are  not  so  numerous,  as 
might  be  expected.  More  breaches  of  fidelity  are  ob- 
servable in  this  intercourse,  than  in  any  other  instance 
of  the  most  trifling  importance. 

To  entertain  a  secret  partiality  for  a  man,  without 
knowing  it  reciprocal,  is  dreadful  indeed.  If  you  have 
address  and  fortitude  enough  not  to  betray  it,  and  thus 
expose  yourself  to  ridicule  and  censure,  (and  yet  what 
prudence  is  always  equal  to  the  task  ?)  it  will  cost  you 
infinite  grief,  anxiety  and  vexation  ;  and  a  victory  over 
yourself,  if  you  do  gain  it,  may  be  at  the  expense  of 
your  health  and  constitution.  It  will,  at  the  same  time, 
totally  unfit  you  for  any  other  connexion ;  for  who 
would  take  the  body,  when  another  person  is  in  posses- 
sion of  the  soul  ? 


1$2  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

If  any  man,  therefore,  can  deliberately  be  so  cruel,  as 
to  visit  you  frequently,  and  show  you  <:v try  particulari- 
ty that  is  only  short  of  this  grand  explanation,  never  see 
him  in  private  ;  and,  if  that  be  insufficient,  and  you  Hill 
feel  tender  sentiments  towards  him,  determine  to  shun 
his  company  for  ever.  It  is  easier,  remember,  to  ex- 
tinguish a  fire,  that  has  but  just  broken  out,  than  one 
which  has  been  gathering  strength  and  violence,  from  a 
long  concealment.  Many  have  neglected  this  necessary 
precaution,  and  died  silent  martyrs  to  their  fondness 
and  imprudence.  The  eye  of  beauty  has  languished  in 
solitude,  or  been  dimmed  with  a  flood  of  irremediable 
tears.  The  heart  has  throbbed  with  unconquerable  tu- 
mults, which,  gradually  have  dissolved  an  elegant  frame 
that  deserved  a  much  better  fate.  Undiscovered  by  the 
physician,  they  have  baffled  all  the  resources  of  his 
skill ;  they  have  rendered  ineffectual  all  the  tenderness 
of  friends,  and  death  alone  has  administered  that  ease, 
which  neither  beauty,  friends,  nor  fortune  could  be- 
stow. 

It  is  possible,  that  men  may  not  always  act  from  una- 
mtahle  motives,  when  they  carry  their  attentions  to  a 
considerable  height,  without  an  explanation.  Their  taste 
may  have  privately  singled  you  out  from  all  the  rest  of 
the  world,  whilst  Providence  has  not  propitiou  ly  rais- 
ed them  to  circumstances,  which  they  conceive  to  be 
worth  your  acceptance.  They  may  have  a  delicacy,  a 
dignity,  and  independence  of  mind,  which  would  riot 
easily  brook  a  repukc\  or  an  inferior  situation  ;  and  they 
may  be,  very  honorably,  probing  by  these,  little  methods, 
the  state  of  your  inclinations. 

Ol  these  circumstances  you  must  endeavor  to  judge 
for  yourself,  or  get  some  discerning,  impartial  and  more 
experienced  friend  to  be  your  adviser.  If  you  suspect 
a  person's  conduct  to  arise  from  such  motives,  you  can- 
not treat  him  with  too  much  attention.  He  has  paid 
you,  in  the  most  delicate  and  flattering  manner,  the 
highest  compliment  in  the  world  ;  and  you  may  de« 
pend  on  his  affection  being  more  sincere,  in  proportion 
as  it  is  less  assuming,  confident,  or  obtrusive. 


L'gTTETlS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  i*: 

If  you  have  any  regard  for  such  a  character,  his  pen- 
etration will  have  discovered  it.  Use  no  affectation  to 
him.  He  will  see  through  all  its  flimsy  disguises.  At- 
tempt no  prudery  ;  he  will  behold  your  bosom  panting 
through  the  thin,  slight  veil,  and  the  hypocrisy  will  dis- 
gust. Talk  not  of  fortune  or  circumstances  ;  thtyhiwt 
been  the  objects  of  his  consideration.  I  know  no  meth- 
od, but,  with  an  honest  candor,  to  throw  yourself  a  fair, 
enchanting  object,  on  his  generous  protection,  lfby 
any  concealment,  you  should  hurt,  that  self  conscious 
dignity  and  affection,  which  will  always  attend  such  a 
mind,  as  this,  he  will  never  agiin  sue  to  your  clemency, 
but  leave  you  to  ruminate  on  the  artifices  you  have  us- 
ed, in  an  hopeless  repentance. 

if  you  suppose  on  the  other  hand,  that  any  person  dal- 
lies with  your  feelings  from  wantonness ,  or  mere  a- 
musement,  you  cannot  show  him  too  marked  a  contempt. 
Though  delicacy  will  not  permit  you  to  glance  at  the 
.particular  impropriety  of  his  conduct,  yet  there  are  a 
thousand  methods  of  making  him  feel  his  own  insignif- 
icance, and  of  changing  the  little  plumage  of  his  vanity, 
iinto  a  monument  of  his  shame. 

There  is  something  so  unmanly  in  sporting  with  the 
tender  feelings  of  a  woman  ;  there  is  something  so  tru- 
ly despicable  in  the  character  of  a  person,  who  wishes 
a  consequence,  built  upon  the  tears  and  distresses  of 
those,  whom  all  great  and  generous  minds  are  diapos- 
•ed  to  protect,  that  if  a  female  coquette  is  odious  to 
your  sex,  a  male  one  should  be  doubly  abhorred  by  his 
own. 

If  a  person  once  comes  to  a  serious  declaration  in 
your  favor,  affect  no  prudish  airs  of  reserve.  If  you 
really,  feel  an  affection  for  him,  and  can  indulge  it  with 
prudence,  do  not  scruple  to  acknowledge  it,  or  to  treat 
him  with  the  greatest  bpenness  and  candor.  This  will 
engage,  for  ever  the  esteem  of  every  liberal  and  honest 
man.  If,  from  any  circumstances,  unforeseen  at  the 
time,  you  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  dismissing 
him,  as  a  lover,  vou  will  never  fail  to  retain  him,  as  a 
R 


1U4  LETTERS  'JO  A  YOUNC  LAUY. 

friend ;  ani  though  with  a  base,  designing  person,  such 
a  conduct  may  expose  you  to  some  little  inconvenience, 
yet,  whose  will  be  the  disgrace  ?  Leave  him  to  the  con- 
tempt and  indignation  of  the  sensible,  and  let  him  make 
llae  most  of  the  godlike  reflexion,  that  he  has  endeavor- 
ed to  triumph  over  artless  innocence,  and  unsuspecting 
sensibility. 

There  is  generally  too  much  affectation  of  coyness  in 
this  intercourse  betwixt  the  sexes.  I  have  no  idea  of  a 
woman's  blushing  to  avow  an  attachment.  If  she  has 
it  indeed,  it  will  appear  to  a  penetrating  mind,  even 
from  her  very  efforts  to  conceal  it.  The  involuntary 
embarrassment,  the  timid  look,  the  modest  blush,  and 
the  downcast  eye  are  indisputable  symptoms  of  a  strong 
partiality,  which  cannot  either  be  concealed  or  mis- 
taken. 

Your  sex,  I  know,  have,  ideas  of  suspense,  and  fancy, 
that  it  heightens  the  merit  of  the  prize.  But  I  dare 
not  recommend  such  a  dangerous  expedient.  If  the 
cunning  be  discovered,  the  punishment  may  be  a  lasting 
coldness  and  neglect.  I  do  not  know  any  thing,  so  re- 
allv  graceful  as  unaffected  simplicity. 

Never  disclose  the  offers  or  preferences  you  receive, 
except  to  those  friends,  who  are  immediately  interested 
in  your  decision.  They  are  secrets  of  honor,  which 
v'ou  should  carry  inviolate  to  your  grave.  It  is  ungen- 
erous to  make  a  man,  the  subject  of  observetion,  per- 
haps, of  ridicule,  because  he  has  tendered  you  his  warm- 
est affections  ;  and  the  envy  of  your  own  sex  will  not 
be  disposed  to  spare  you,  for  such  a  palpable  display  of 
vanity  and  pride.  If  you  intend  to  marry,  it  is  the 
highest  impolicy  ;  and  if  you  mean  to  dismiss  him,  it  is 
cruel  to  aggravate  dismission  with  contempt. 


LETTER  CHI. 

FROM  the  unfavorable  sketch,  I  have  given  of  the 
morals  and  sentiments  of  young  men,  it  is  not  probable 
that  a  woman  of  the  greatest  merit,  will  have   any  pro- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  19$ 

iligious  number  of  admirers  to  distract  her  choice. — 
Generally,  in  the  present  state  of  things,  if  a  lady,  will 
be  married,  she  has  a  number  of  accommodations  to 
make,  many  wishes  to  sacrifice,  and  mnn.v  instances  of 
private  taste  to  be  resigned.  *Shc  must  be  content  w'uh 
a  fortune  merely  without  expecting  any  good  or  great 
qualities,  annexed  ;  or  if  she  seek  the  latter,  she  must 
often  forego  all  hopejs  of  the  former. 

If,  however,  you  should  have  a  number  of  suitors, 
(and,  without  any  compliment,  it  is  notimpossble,)  there 
are  a  few  general  principles  of  most  essential  conse- 
quence to  regulate  your  choice. 

Fortune,  spkndor,  greatness  are  alone  the  crj^  of  mer- 
cenary friends.  I  am  not  wholly  of  their  opinion.  I 
have  seen  many  wretched  in  marring?,  with  all  the  trap- 
pings of  greatness.  I  have  known  a  still  greater  num- 
ber happy,  who  have  had  only  "  a  dinner  of  herbs  apd 
love  therewith. 

Do  not  suffer  vour  imagination  to  be  dazzled  with 
mere  splendor.  Never  fancy,  that  brilliamce  is  connect- 
ed with  the  'mind,  or  that  the  happiness  of  women,  any 
more  than  that  of  men,  "  consisted)  in  the  abundance 
of  the  things,  that  she  possesseth." 

An  immoderate  fondness  for  show  is  a  great  misfor- 
tune. It  has  led  many  a  poor  girl  to  sacrifice  herself  to 
some  illiterate  boor,  who  had  nothing  but  his  affluence 
to  recommend  him.  If  such  should  be  ijour  misfortune 
I  need  not  mention,  what  would  be  your  feelings.  If 
you  was  prudent  enough  to  avoid  all  other  evil  conse- 
quences, (and  many  such,  experience  records,  but  deli- 
cacy forbears  to  mention,)  you  might  live  to  envy  the 
ruddy,  ?/;?r/w?  bit  ions  milk-maid,  whose  toils  are  sweetened 
by  conjugal  attachment,  and  whose  blooming  children 
cheer  the  seeming  infelicities  of  life. 

How  wretched  must  be  a  woman,  united  to  a  man 
whom  she  does  not  prefer  to  every  ether  in  the  world  ! 
What  secret  preferences  must  steal  into  her  heart  ! 
What  unquiet  thoughts  take  possession  of  her  fancy  ! 
And  what  can  men  of  principle  call  such  an  act,  but  4* 
gal  prostitution  ? 


H)6  hitters  to  a  young  lauy. 

If  I  was,  a  despotic  tyrant,  I  would  inflict  this  punish- 
ment on  the  women,  1  abhored.  She  should,  entertain 
?.  piivate  partiality  for  one  person,  and  be  married  to 
another* 

Never  suffer  yourself  to  think  of  a  person,  who  has 
not  religious  principle.  A  good  man  alone  is  capable  of 
true  attachment,  fidelity  and  affection. 

Others  may  feel  a  fugitive  passion  ;  but  on  this,  alas  I 
you  can  place  no  dependence.  It  may  be  abated  by  ca- 
price, supplanted  by  some,  new  favorite,  palled  by  pos- 
session, and,  at  any  rate,  will  last  no  longer,  than  your 
personal  charms,  though  those  charms  may  have  faded 
by  almost  laying  down  your  life  for  their  sike,  by  bring- 
ing them  a  beautiful  offspring  into  the  world. 

During  the  flattering  season  of  courtship,  men  will  al- 
ways endeavor  to  appear  in  their  best  colours,  and  put 
r.n  all  the  appearance  of  good  humor.  But  supposing 
ihis  good  humor,  real,  it  is  but  a  fluctuating,  unsteady 
principle,  depending  on  the  motion  of  the  blood  and  spir* 
its.  Nothing,  but  religion,  is  permanent  and  unchange- 
able, always  consistent,  and  always  the  same. 

A  man  of  this  cast  will  never  fail  to  treat  you  with 
tenderness  and  attention.  If  little  provocations  happen, 
lie  will  soften  them  with  gvmleness  ;  if  offences  come, 
he  will  be  sVulded  with  patknee  ;  if  his  own  temper  be 
unhappy,  he  will  correct  it  by  the  assistance  of  divine 
grace  and  of  reflection;  if  misfoi  tune  assail  you,  he 
will  bear  them  with  resignation  :  in  every  exigence,  he 
will  be  a  friend  ;  in  all  your  troubles,  a  stay  ;  in  your 
sickness,  a  physician  ;  and,  when  the  last,  convulsive 
moment  comes,  he  will  leave'  you  with  his  tears,  and 
wi  h  his  blessings.  All  his  impetuous  passions  he  will 
suppress,  from  a  sense  of  duty  ;  and  if  ever  by  an  z//z- 
guarded  sallv,  he  should  unfortunately  have  hurt  your 
feelings,  or  \\  1  ited  your  peace,  he  will  sufTer  more  pain 
f*-om  the  piivate  recollection,  than  he  can  possibly  have 
inflicted  upor.  you.  Ten  thousand  cares,  anxieties  and 
vexations  will  mix  with  the  married  state.  Religion  is 
the  only  principle*;  that  can  infuse  an  healing  balm,  L&- 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  107 

spire  both  parties  with  serenity  and  hope,  dispose  them 
to  mutual  concessions  and  forbearance,  and  prompt 
them  to  share  each  others  burthens-  with  alacrity  and 
ease. 

Gay  and  volatile  as  your  spirits  may  be  before  thi<; 
union,  when,  as  yet,  no  great  trials  or  misfortunes  have 
pressed  on  them,  yet  when  you  seriously  think  of  having 
a  familv,  and  calling  yourself  mother  of  a  numerous  off- 
spring, what  possible  comfort  can  you  promise  yourseU 
wiihout  a  man  of  solid  probity  and  virtue  :  one,  who 
will  be  regular  in  the  discharge  of  v\\  the  religious,  so- 
cial and  domestic  duties  ;  who  will  fuithfullv  train  uv 
vour  common  children  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  not  neg- 
lect their  many  interests  and  wants,  and  wishes  for  the 
turbid  and  licentious  pleasure  of  the  bottle,  gaming,  in- 
trigue, the  chace,  the  theatre,  or  for  any  other  scenes  of 
fashionable  dissipation* 

The  next  thing  you  should  look  for  is  a  person  of* 
domestic  cast.  This  will,  most  frequently,  be  found  in 
men  of  the  most  virtuous  hearts  and  improved  under- 
standings. They  will  always  have  abundance  of  enter- 
tainment  in  private,  unknown  to  vulgar  minds.  And 
these  will  secure  them  fronv  seeking  their  happiness  in 
the  factitious  plepsure  of  the  world. 

Of  what  consequence  are  all  the  good  qualities  of 
your  husband,  if  you  must  be  constantly  separated  from 
him  ?  Your  tenderness  in  this  case  will  only  be  the  in- 
strument of  a  poignant  affliction  ;  your  anxiety  will  be 
perpetually  on  the  rack  ;  your  jealousy  may  be  alarm- 
ed ;  and,  in  the  best  point  of  view',  you  will  be  a  widow, 
with  only  a  nominal  hnsbmd,  and  unprotected,  with  all 
the  afrpe  trance  of  protection. 

Wen,  who*?  circumstances  absolutely  require  such 
?"c'v,  should  never  think  of  this  tender  connexion. 
It  is  this  necassary  separation  after  marriage,  and  the 
artificial  one,  which  fashion  has  created,  that  are  the 
cause  of  half  the  disquiets,  which  infest  this  sacred  state. 
True  affection  is  only  nursed  by  the  parties  living  much 
together,  in  the  stillness  of  retirement.  Jt  is  in  the  vba4u 
H 


198  LLTTJTRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

chiefly,  that  the  purest  affections  glow.  It  is  from  dwell-, 
ing  on  the  graces  of  a  common  offspring,  and  repeating, 
in  the  case  of  familiar  conversation,  little  domestic  an- 
ecdotes, playfulness  and  events,  that  matrimonial  friend- 
ship rises  to  its  proper  maturity  and  vigor.  By  con- 
stantly growing  together,  even  branches  become  insepa- 
rably intwined* 

The  last  thing,  though  I  do  not  mention  it,  as  abso- 
lutely necessary,  yet  highly  desirable  in  a  person,  with 
whom  you  must  spend  all  your  days,  is  sentiment  and 
taste.  This  will  variegate  every  hour  with  a  success- 
ion of  pleasure,  every  scene  with  animated  remarks, 
every  incident  with  fresh  conversation,  and  will  make  a 
little  paradise  of  your  deepest  solitude,  in  which  you 
will  never  want  the  poor  resources  oi  foreign  entertain- 
ment. 

Fortune  surely  should  be  considered.  It  were  ab- 
surd to  think  of  love,  where  there  is  not  some  prospect 
of  a  decent  provision  for  your  probable  descendants. — 
That  decency  depends  on  birth,  habit  and-  education. 
But  if  you  can  compass  the  other  requisites,  be  as  mod- 
iste as  possible,  in  your  demands  of  fortune.  Virtue 
and  affection  have  an  amazing  power  of  inspiring  con- 
tentment. A  morsel  thus  sweetened,  will  be  pleasant 
to  the  tastes  In  a  cottage  so  enlivened,  joy  will  spring. 
Children,  so  educated,  will  be  rich  in  goodness.  The 
Almighty  will,  look  down  from  heaven  with  approba- 
tion, and  crown  the  happy  pair  with  the  choicest  of  his 
ij]^ss>n£s  ! 


LETTER  CIV. 

Never  think  of  marrying  a  weak  man,  in  hopes  of. 
governing  him.  Silly  people  are  often  more  peevish 
and  refractory,  than  you  would  suppose  ;  but  if  you 
could  even  gain  your  point,  and  by  great  address  and 
management  rise  to  the  helm,  I  should  not  by  any. 
means,  congratulate  your  success. 

7/qmen,  that  assume  the  reui33  seldom  manage  then\ 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUtfG  LAKY.  1  99" 

with  dignity.  Their  authority  breaks  forth  in  number- 
less, petty  instances  of  tyranny  and* caprice,  which  only 
render  them  miserable  in,  themst ive,  as  well  as  unami- 
able  to  every  beholder.  The  quality  which  shows,  a 
married  lady  to  advantage,  is  a  modest  submission  ot 
her  understanding  to  the  man,  whom  she  has  not  been 
ashamed  to  honour  with*  her  choice. 

I  have  frequently  mentioned  Milton,  as  peculiarly 
happy  in  his  ideas  of,  what  constitui.es,  conjugal  pro- 
priety. His  Eve  reveres  her  husband.  She  listens  to 
his  conversation,  in  order  to  be  instructed.  In  him,  she 
feels  herself  annihilated  and  absorbed.  She  always 
shows  that  deference  and  consciousness  of  inferiority, 
which,  for  the  sake  ef  order,  the  all  wise  Author  of 
nature,  manifestly,  intended.  The  consequence  is,  that 
her  character  appears  lovely  to  all,  and  that  her  asso- 
ciate, (as  all  sensible  men  will)  treats  her  with  double 
tenderness,  and  gives  her  every  mark  of  a  delicate  pro- 
tection : 

He  in  delight 
Both  of  her  beauty  and  snbmhume  charms, 
Smil'd  with  superior  love. 

To  whom  thus  Eve,  with  perfect  beauty  adorn'd, 
My  author  and  disposer,  what  thou  bidd'st, 
Unargu'd  I  obey ;  so  God  ordains  ! 
God  is  thy  law  ;  thou,  mine  ;  to  know  no  more. 
Is  woman's  happiest  knowledge  and  her  praise. 

When  men  have  lived  single  for  fifty  or  sixty  years, 
through  a  multiplicity  of  business,  ambitious  schemes, 
or  perhaps  from  more  criminal  causes,  it  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  to  see  them,  all  at  once,  determined  on  wed- 
lock, and  paying  their  court  to  some  fine  blooming  girl 
of  eighteen.  Indeed,  in  the  present  state  of  things,  it- 
a  woman  be  not  married  early,  her  chance  is  small ;  so 
violent  is  the  rage  for  youth  and  beauty,  even  in  dj- 
vrepid  beaus  .' 

There  is  something  in  this  practiceT  that,  very  grossly 


TEAS    TO    A    YOUNG    LAbY". 

.Its  both  your  delicicy  and  understanding.  It  loo** 
as  if  these,  sovereign  louts  of  the  creation,  at  the  mo- 
:.i  r.t  when  they  cowl: scend  to  pity  your  distress,  and 
h1  no  comfort  in  habits  of  another  kind,  could  or- 
der the  most  elegint  and  fashionable  amongst  you,  to 
come  at  call ! 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  they  do  make  you  a  consider- 
ation. Your  jointer  is,  generally,  in  proportion  to  the 
age  of  the  party.  The  hundreds  are  increased,  as  the 
head  is  hoary,  as  the  frame  is  enfeebled,  or  as  wrinkles 
have  contracted  the  countenance. 

Never  indulge  the  thought  of  marrying  in  this  man- 
ner. "Wherever  there  is  a  great  disparity  of  years,  there 
cannot  be  »ny  durable  union  of  hearts.  Gloom  and 
gaiety  do  not  easily  assimilate.^  Nature  has  placed  at 
a  great  distance  from  each,  other,  the  torrid  and  the 
frigid  zones. 

People's  views  of  life,  their  sentiments,  projects, 
companies,  pleasures  and  amusements,  differ  so  exceed- 
ingly, at  these  different  ages,  that  it  is  impossible  their 
affections  should  be  unired.  A  thousand  conflicts,  of 
taste  and  opinion,  and  as  many  causes  of  jealousy  and. 
dislike    will  mingle  with  so  injudicious  a  connexion. 

A  woman,  in  such  delicate  circumstances,  where  the 
heart  is  not  engrossed  by  a  real  attachment,  may,  and 
probably  will,  sec  many  persons  -more  agreeable,  than 
him,  to  whom  she  is  bound  by  an  indissoluble  tie.  If 
she  has  prudence  and  principle  enough  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances, and  thus  preserve  her  innocence  in  the  eyes 
■of  the  world,  it  can  be  no  supreme  felicity  to  be  the 
wife  of  one  man,  whilst  her  heart  is  secretly  panting  f  »r 
another.  Lt  is  indeed  a  trial,  which  no  splendor  caw 
recompense  and  no  fortune  ease.  If  she  should  ever  be 
so  unguarded  as  to  betray  sweh  a  preference,  in  any  part 
of  her  conduct,  her  peace  and  happiness  are  lost  forev- 
er !  but  admitting  her  to  behave  with  the  greatest  pro 
priety,  and  even  to  be  attached  to  the  Sultan,  who  owns 
her,  still  the  jealousy  of  old  men  is  a  m^st  amazingly 
irritable  passion.     It    i?  that   watchful  dragsn,    whicfa 


LETTERS   TO    A    YOUNG   LADY.  20 1 

guards  the  Hesperian  fruit ;  and  with  a  keen  eyed 
glance  will  be  apt  to  discover  some  hidden,  meaning  in* 
a  look,  impropriety  in  a  gesture,  or  a  violation  of  the 
marriage  covenant  in  the  roost  common  civility.  At 
anv  rate,  it  is  no  very  flattering  allotment  to  a  woman, 
to  be  the  nurse  of  a  peevish,  infirm  or  emaciated  old 
man,  at  any  age,  when  she  might  claim  the  most  deli- 
cate passion,  and  reciprocal  endearments.  What  wo- 
man of  spirit  would  bear  to  be  suspected?  What  chris- 
tian should  vow,  at  the  altar  of  her  God,  an  affection  to 
a  man,  when  her  attachment  was  solely  to  his  fortune  I 
And  who  that  has  read  one  page  of  human  life,,  must 
not  tremble  at  the  consequences,  that  have  generally  at- 
tended such  imprudent  connexions  ? 

"  A  reformed  rake  makes  the  best  husband."  Does; 
he  ?  It  would  be  very  extraordinary,,  if  he  should. — 
Besides,  are  you  very  certain,  that  you  have  power  to, 
reform  him  ?  It  is  a  matter,  that  requires  some  deliber- 
ation. This  reformation,  if  it  is  to  be  accomplished,, 
must  take  place  before  marriage.  Then,  if  ever,  is  the 
period  of  your  power.  But  how  will  you  be  assured 
that  he  is  reformed?  If  he  appears  so,  is  he  not  insidu- 
ously  concealing  his  vices,  to  gain  your  affections  ?  And 
wken  he  knows  they  are  secured,  may  he  not,  gradual- 
ly, throw  off  the  ma^k,  and  be  dissipated,  as  before? 
Prodigality  of  this  kind  is  seldom  eradicated.  It  re- 
sembles some  cutaneous  disorders,  which  appear  to  be 
healed,  and  yet  are,  continually,  making  themselves  vis- 
ible by  fresh  eruptions. 

A  man,  who  has.  carried  on  a  criminal  intercourse 
with  immoral  women,  is  not  to  be  trusted.  His  opin- 
ion of  all  females  is  an  insult  to  their  delicacy.  His  at- 
tachment is  to  sex-  alone,  under  particular  modifications. 
On  him,  virtue,  knowledge,  accomplishment  and  graces, 
are  miserable  thrown  away.  To  gra'ify  an  inextin- 
guishable thirst  for  variety,  su',h  a  wretch  is  often  seen 
to  forsake  the  most  deserving  wife,  to  seek  his  usual, 
fugitive  pleasure,  with  m\  abandoned,  mercenary  har- 
lot.    What  would  you  think  of  this  ?   Yet  no  graces,  rto 


202  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY, 

affection,  no  delicacy,  on  your  part,  may  be  able  to  pre- 
vtnt  it.  It  seems  the  curse  of  heaven,  entailed  on  his 
»,  and,  generally,  pursues  him  even  to  the  grave. 
The  supposed  predilection  of  your  sex  for  rakes,  must 
probably,  arise  from  their  ostentatious  appearance,  gaie- 
ty, spirits,  and  assumed  politeness.  But  how  deaily  is 
such  tinsel  purchased  by  an  union  with  them  !  How 
often  has  a  long,  harrassed  life  of  poverty  and  remorse, 
been  the  dreadful  sacrifice  to  this  indiscretion  of  a  mo* 
mem. 


LETTER  CV. 

MEN  in  professions  may  be  expected  to  possess  the 
most  liberal  sentiments,  as  having  enjoyed  a  superior 
education  ;  and  their  manners  and  society  rill,  of 
course,  be  most  agreeable  and  interesting  to  ladies.— 
Military  people  are,  proverbially,  favorites. 

I  will  not  so  much  degrade  the  dignity  of  your  sex, 
as  to  suppose,  that  it  is  the  mere  colour  of  their  habits, 
which  dazzles  your  eyes,  and  works  such  astonishing 
miracles  in  their  favour.  There  are  reasons,  which  may 
account,  more  rationally,  for  your  partiality,  whilst 
they  do  more  credit  to  your  understanding. 

Undistracted  with  cares  and  business,  they  are  hap- 
py in  that  easy  disengagednesf},  of  mind,  which  can  ex- 
haust  all  its  efforts  upon  the  single  article  of  pleasing.  — 
With  much  time  upon  their  hands,  they  have  frequent 
opportunities  of  being  in  your  company,  and  of  feeling, 
or  at  least,  affecting  admiration.  Lively  and  volatile 
from  an  healthy  life  of  activity  and  exercise,  they  easily 
assimilate  with  the  manners  of  a  sex,  whose  distinguish- 
ing grace  is  a  ch -erful  vivacity.  Having  travelled 
through  vanous  places  and  kingdoms,  they  necessarily 
acquire  that  ease  and  urbanity  of  manners,  which  result 
from  a  general  intercourse  with  mankind.  Expected 
firojr'ssrjiial'ij,  to  be  men  of  courage,  you  may  suppose 
them  the  best  protectors  of  your  person  and  your  weak- 
".     Their  very  choice  of  the  army  marks  them  for 


LETTERS    TO    A.    YOUNG    LADY.  203 

genteel  notions  arid  spirit ;  and  any  of  these  reasons  is* 
perhaps,  no  disadvantage  with  a  female  heart.  I  should 
be  sorry  to  suppose,  that  their  general  love  of  pleasure, 
gaiety  and  intrigue  is  amongst  their  recommendations 
to  the  favour  of  those,  who  should  uniformly,  discour- 
age by  tht  ir  blushes  and  their  frowns  every  species  of 
levity  and  vice. 

In  fact,  and  to  be  impartial,  the  agreeableness  of  offi- 
cers, is  like  that  of  other  men.  There  is  the  human 
mixture  of  the  good  and  the  bad.  I  have  always  found, 
from  my  own  observation,  that  the  older  and  experien- 
ced are  some  of  the  most  interesting  characters  in  soci- 
ety. The  various  scenes,  through  which  they  have 
passed,  give  a  sprightliness  and  diversity  to  their  con- 
versation, and  their  politeness  lends  it  a  charm.  I  have 
met  with  as  many  of  the  younger  sort,  who  have  seem- 
ed to  think  the  petty  ornament  of  a  cockade,  an  ade- 
quate substitute  for  all  improvements  of  the  mind;  a 
shelter  for  litigious  insolence  and  puppyism,  and  an  ex- 
clusive security  for  the  tenderest  affections,  and  attach- 
ment of  a  woman. 

But  this  evil  is  not  confined,  merely,  to  the  army. — 
It  is  so  in  the  church.  How  truly  amiable  are  the  ex- 
perienced, the  learned,  and  the  exemplary  of  this  pro- 
fession, whose  knowledge  is  happily  tissued  with  devo- 
tion, and  softened  by  a  general  intercourse  with  the 
world  !  How  manv,  on  the  other  band,  when  they  are 
just  initiated  into  the  sacred  office,  ridiculously  pique 
themselves  on  a  cassock  rn:l  a  scarp  ;  and,  u  der  that 
solem  garb,  go  as  far  as  possible,  in  the  mazes  of  beau- 
ism,  vanity  and  affectation  ! 

There  are,  doubtless,  very  amiable  people  in  the  ar- 
my ;  but  their  general  notions  and  treatment  of  your 
sex,  forbid  me  to  wish  that  you  should,  ever,  cultivate 
much  acquaintance  with  them,  because  the  circumstan- 
ces, in  which  thev  are  placed,  render  the  thought*  of  a 
serious  connexion,  by  no  means  desirable.  If  we  could 
suppose  their  prirtciplesnot  to  be  injured  by  their  mode 
of  life  j  if  they  could  resign  from  the   moment  of  mar- 


20-1  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

riage,  all  their  notions  of  unlimited  gallantry  and  pleas- 
ure, what  is  their  pay,  but  a  scanty  subsistence  for  a  sol- 
itary individual  ?  What  is  their  liTe,  but  an  unsettled 
pilgrimage  from  one  country  to  another  ?  How  often 
are  they  called,  at  a  moment's  warning,  to  fight,  perhaps 
perish,  for  their  king  and  countiy?  or,  to  die  more 
suddenly,  and  more  ignominiously,  by  the  hands  of  a 
Duellist,  who  challenges  them  into  eternity  for  the 
slightest  provocation,  perhaps  for  the  misplacing  only  of 
a  syllable  ! 

In  the  midst  of  such  alarming  prospects,  what  has  a 
-woman  to  expect  from  maniage  with  them,  but  con- 
tinual, toils,  unceasing  dangers,  perpetual  apprehen- 
sions; poverty,  remorse,  vexation— children  without 
provision,  and  sorrows,  which  the  lenient  hand  of  time, 
scarcely  cam  assuage. 

If  you  was  ever  so  happily  united  with  a  man  of  this 
description,  how  dreadful  must  be  the  absences,  you 
will  have  to  bear,  mixed  as  they  will  be,  with  a  dissolv- 
ing tenderness,  and  unavoidable  alarms  ;  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  how  insupportable  your  toils,  "with  perils 
in  the  wilderness,  perils  by  the  sea,  and  perils  amongst 
false  brethren  ;  with  weariness  and  painfulness  ;  with 
watchings,  often  ;  with  hunger  and  thirst ;  with  fastings 
often  ;  with  cold  and  nakedness."  Remember  the  fate 
•of  lady  C — w— s,  and  drop  a  tear.  That  gaiety  of 
heart,  which,  once  doted  on  a  man  for  his  smartness  or 
vivacity,  will  find  too  much  exercise  for  its  penitence 
and  grief  in  such  serious  afflictions. 


LETTER  CVT 

IN  several  requisites  to  an  happy  marriage,  profes* 
stoned  men  do  not  appear,  by  any  means,  the  most  eli- 
gible. 

A  great  Writer  has  called  a  physician,  u  the  mere 
playing  of  fortune.''  However  straitened  in  his  circum- 
stances, from  having  received  an  expensive  education, 
he  must  assume,  particularly  in  the  metropolis,   the  ap- 


LETTFRS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  205 

pcaranrc  of  property  merely  to  gain  employment.  This 
fictitious  grandeur  may  involve  him  in  difficuliies,  for 
many  vears.  His  success  from  the  nature  of  things, 
must  generally,  be  slow,  nor  will  it  ever  depend  so  much 
on  his  own  intrinsic  merit,  as  on  a  fortunate  coincidence 
of  circumstances,  wholly  out  of  his  power.  If  he  suc- 
ceeds, it  will,  frequently,  be  late  in  life  ;  and  if  he  does 
not,  he  must  be  embarrassed  indeed  !  The  children  of 
such  a  person  u  cannot  d'g,  and  to  beg  they  are  asham- 
ed/' Poverty,  sharpened  by  refinement  and  sensibility, 
is  afflicting  in  the  extreme  ! 

I  do  not  think  the  profession  of  the  law,  calculated 
to  render  a  man  the  most  agreeable  companion,  in  the 
still,  unruffled  shades  of  domestic  life.  It  calls  into 
continual  exercise,  the  more  turbid  passions  ;  it  begets 
an  unpleasant  spirit  of  cavilling  and  contradiction,  and 
has  less  tendency  to  nurse  the  finer  feelings,  than  any  of 
the  other  learned  professions. 

By  being  crowded  together,  at  a  dangerous  age,  in 
the  temple  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  joung  men  are  apt  to  con- 
tract a  licentiousness  of  morals,  a  laxity  of  principles,  a 
species  of  scepticism  to  palliate  their  vice*;,  habits  of 
profaneness,  not  a  little  dissipation,  and,  so  lar  as  your 
,sex  is  concerned,  very  dangerous  notions. 

Before  marriage,  military  men  and  young  lawyers  ate 
not,  in  my  idea,  the  safest  acquaintance.  The  first  are 
only  bent,  without  looking  any  further,  on  domestica- 
ting themstlves,  in  agreeable  families,  by  every  polite 
attention  to  wives  and  daughters,  and  thus  amusing 
many  leisure  hours,  which  in  their  s'ate  of  continual 
peregrination,  would  be,  otherwise,  insupportable  ;  the 
latter,  in  general,  scruple  not  to  go  great  lengths  in  gal- 
lantry, where  they  have  no  serious  intention. 

Bewa  e  of  such  society  ;  beware  of  your  heart.  Lt  t 
not  the  unblushing  front  of  barrister,  let  not  the  mere 
scarlet  h  'bit  of  a  petit,  maitre,  who  Ins  studied  the  win- 
dings of  a  female  heart,  infinitely  more,  than  tactics,  or 
the  art  of  war,  let  not  a  few  civil  sayings  or  flattering 
attentions  beguile  your  imagination,  or  lay  vour  pru- 
S 


20G  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

dence  asleep.  I  do  not  think  the  commerce  very  sal 
It  I  h:\cl  a  girl  of  my  own,  1  woul4  not  expose  her  to  s^ 
dangerous  a  trial.  Many,  doubtless,  have  come  otF 
conquerors,  but  more  have  fallen  ;  and  their  wounds 
and  tears  have  made,  upon  my  memory,  a  lasting  im- 
pression. 

Our  imagination,  however,  annexes  riches,  honours, 
and  even  tides  to  the  profession  of  the  law.  But  this 
fancy  often  misleads  us.  It  is  true,  that  merit  has  a 
greater  chance  in  this,  than  in  any  other  profession  ; 
and  it  is  certain,  that  a  fortunate  few  have  attained  to 
very  considerable  greatness.  We  hear  of  a  Mansfield, 
a  Thurlow,  a  Ktnyon,  a  Loughborough,  a  Law,  an 
Krskine,  and  are  dazzled  with  their  names,  their  suc- 
cess and  honours.  But  not  a  word  is  said  of  a  thou- 
sand others  of  the  fraternity,  whom,  though  possessed 
of  considerable  talents,  fortune  never  chose  to  bring  in- 
to the  public  view,  or  to  distinguish  with  any  of  her 
favours. 

But  all  these  discouragements  apart,  if  a  lawyer  is 
eminent,  he  can  scarcely  ever  be  at  home.  Perpetual 
cares  and  business  surround  him,  and  poison  his  repose. 

His  wife  and  children  must  be  neglected,  and  domes- 
tic endearments  sacrificed  to  tumultuous  cares.  And 
if  he  be  poor,  no  poverty  can  open  the  door  to  more 
chicaner},  artifice,  or  meanness.  At  any  rate,  if  lae  be 
a  man  of  pure  morals  and  religious  principles,  he  has 
withstood  the  greatest  temptations,  that  human  nature 
can  encounter,  and  for  superior  and  heroic  virtue  almost 
deserves  a  place  in  the  kalendar  of  saints. 

See  now  a  man's  partiality  to  his  own  profession  ;  but 
if  it  be  not  founded  in  reason,  I  beg  you  will  reject  it. 

The  office  of  clergyman  calls  them  to  a  more  regular 
and  retired  life,  than  that  of  most  other  men.  Their 
exemption  from  the  bustle  and  competitions  of  the 
world,  nurses  innocence  and  sensibility  ;  and  if  their 
heart  be  not  very  depraved,  their  enjoyments  and 
studies  must  soften  and  refine  it.  Their  education 
should  have  given  them  the  power  of  entertaining,  and 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY.  207 

their  calling  supposes,  not  only  integrity,  but  piety  and 
virtue. 

A  man  of  this  cast  seems  particularly  calculated  not 
only  to  relish,  but  to  enhance  the  happiness  of  a  married 
state.  With  hours  at  command,  he  has  leisure  For  the 
tender  offices  of  friendship,,  and  the  little,  Sportive  play- 
fulness of  amusing  conversation.  Whilst  the  woodbine 
and  the  jasmine  surround  his  modest  mansion,  he 
dreads  no  unpropitious  accident,  that  shnll  drag  him 
from  his  retreat,  and  can  tread  with  a  faithful  partner  of 
his  cares,  the  1  .nely,  u  silent  haunts,  which  contempla- 
tion loves."  lie  has  time  for  superintending  the  in- 
struction of  children,  and  calling  their  latent  powers  into 
exercise  and  action.  He  has  opportunity  to  realize  the 
picture  of  a  Milton,  and  watch  the  opening  beauties  of 
the  paradise  about  him. 

Let  me,  however,  be  candid,  and  give  rou  the  possi- 
ble reverse  of  this  piece.  The  church  is  in  a  very  un- 
happy situation.  That  education,  which  renders  the 
ecclesiastic  agreeable,  often  sharpens  his  affliction. — 
That  refinement,  which  captivates  the  elegant  and  in- 
experienced, is  the  spear,  which  fetches  drops  of  blood 
from  his  heart.  Frequently  without  an  adequate  pro- 
vision, ami  incapable,  by  any  secular  employment,  of 
improving  his  circumstances,  these  apparent  privileges 
are  only  his  misfortune.  The  sensibility,  which  loves  a 
woman,  doubly  mourns  her  allotment.  That  tender- 
ness, which  embraces  children  with  such  affection, 
shudders  at  their  prospects.  That  independence  which 
results  from  liberal  sentiments,  startles  at  the  thought 
of  poverty  or  distress  ;  and  that  peace,  which  he  has 
found  in  the  abodes  of  solitude,  unfits  him  for  the  tur- 
bulent agitations  of  the  world. 

Many  men,  however,  there  are  in  this  procession, 
very  amply  provided  for  ;  and,  if  one  of  these  falls  to 
your  lot,  with  the  habits  and  dispositions,  that  should 
result  from  his  character,  I  think  you  may  form  every 
rational  hope  of  comfort  and  enjoyment.  Still,  do  not 
suppose  me  narrow  or  illiberal.     There   are   doubtless, 


-06  LETTERS    10    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

lumbers  of  worthy  and  amiable  men  in  the  other  pro- 
fession ;  there  are,  as  certainly,  many  worthless,  im- 
moral, and  profligate  persons  in  the  church.  General 
rules  admit  of  infinite  exceptions.  And  as  your  heart 
is  disengaged,  I  meant  only  to  state  the  influence  of 
(JiiTrrcnt  habits  and  employments  on  the  mind,  and  the 
probability  of  their  conducing  to  happiness  or  misery  in 
this  important  connexion.  And  I  still  must  urge,  that* 
if  a  clergyman  be  a  bad  husband,  it  is  in  the  defiance 
of  the  strongest  inducements  to  be  otherwise,  and  of 
every  disposition,  which  his  studies  and  his  prayers 
should  have  led  him,  either  to  cultivate  in  himself,  or 
recommend  to  others.    * 


LETTER  CVII. 

A  MERE  country  squire  will  be  mo*e  attached  to 
his  dogs,  his  hunting  parties  and  horses,  than  he  could 
be  to  any  wife  in  the  world.  The  most  lovely  graces, 
the  most  exquisite  accomplishments  will  make  no  im- 
pression on  his  debased  and  vitiated  mind.  He  will 
not  b«  able  even  to  discover  them.  From  him,  you 
must  expect  none  of  the  little,  soothing  attentions.  He 
will  hhock  your  delicacy  with  a  thousand  coarsenesses, 
without  a  sensibility  that  he  is  doing  wrong  ;  and  if  you 
should  expostulate,  he  will  place  it  only  to  the  account 
of  female  prudery,  conceit  or  affectation.  He  will  con- 
verse with  you  chiefly  on  the  dtlici.us  subjects  of  the 
bottle  or  the  chace  ;  and  he  v\iil  occasionally  introduce 
vou  to  the  honour  of  an  orquainrance  with  a  number  of 
ignorant  i-11  bred  boors,  who  will  esteem  you  in  exact 
proportion,  as  you  want  elegance,  of  manner,  sentiment 
or  understanding ! 

Young  la  lies  never  act  so  injudiciously,  as  when  they 
sacrifice  themselves  to  stupid  vulgarity.  Their  charms 
are  never  lost  on  men  of  sense,  delicacy  and  politeness- 
By  them  their  throne  is  established.  It  is  in  their  hearts, 
that  they  have  always  a  sovereign  and  undisputed  sway. 

1  have  now  given  you  my  sentiments  very  freely  cor> 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  209 

cerning  a  great  variety  of  Characters.  But,  marry  whom 
you  will,  one  further  lesson  is  necessary  to  your  happi- 
ness, ns  well  as  that  of  the  person,  with  whom  you  are 
connected — and  that  is — to  consider  your  home,  as  the 
chief  scene  of  your  pleasures,  and  your  exertion. 

Though  a  woman,  before  this  union,  may  be  admir- 
ed for  her  accomplishments  of  dancing,  dress,  painting, 
singing,  &c.  yet  after  it,  we  expect  her  character  to  dis- 
play something  more  substantial.  To  a  man,  who  must 
spend  his  days  in  her  company,  all  these  little  superfi- 
cial decorations  will  speedily  become  insipid  and  unim- 
portant. Love  must  be  preserved  by  the  qualities  of 
the  heart,  and  esteem  secured  by  the  domestic  virtues. 

A  man  does  not  want  to  be  dazzled  in  this  connexion, 
or  to  possess  a  partner,  who  seeks  the  admiration  of 
coxcombs  or  beaux.  He  wants  a  person  who  will  kind- 
ly divide  and  alleviate  his  cares,  and  prudently  arrange 
his  household  concerns.  He  seeks  not  a  coquette,  a 
fashionist,  a  flirt,  but  a  comfortable  assistant,  companion 
and  friend. 

Let  not  a  woman's  fancy  dream  of  perpetual  admira- 
tion. Let  it  not  be  sketched  out  endless  mazes  of  plea- 
sure. The  mistress  of  a  family  has  ceased  to  be  a  girl. 
She  can,  no  longer,  be  frivolous  or  childish  with  impuni- 
ty. The  angel  of  courtship  has  sunk  into  a  woman,  and 
that  woman  will  be  valued  principally  as  her  fondness 
lies  in  retirement,  and  her  pleasures  near  the  nursery  of 
her  children.  Nor  are  these  pleasures  small.  What- 
ever fashion  thinks,  they  have  a  secret  relish,  which  the 
world  cannot  give. 

If  men  are  expected  to  distinguish  themselves  by  sci- 
ence, valour,  eloquence  or  the  arts,  r;  woman's '  greatest 
praise  consists  in  the  order  anJ  I  ml  of  h>  r 

family.     Nor  is  this  beneath  the  J- 

in  the  world.     Never  :;»   she   greater   i  -  t  in        h  ■  .  ,<- 
...     It  spoils  no  features.     It  places  the   \yt\ 
ide,  and  in  the  mo  t  favor  I 

•  .    .  ■  ■"         '  '  "''  ': 


210  L:  TTEuS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY. 

vapours  ;  and  every  family,  without  it,  mast  be  a  scene 
of  discord  ;  a  state  of  anarchy,  in  which  there  is  no 
head  to  govern^  and  all  the  members  seem  unwilling  to 
obey. 

If  we  could  see  the  inside  of  some  fashionable  hous- 
es, what  a  prospect  would  they  present  !  The  mistress 
at  a  masquerade  or  an  opera — servants,  drunken,  ex- 
travagant, criminal  ! — Children,  receiving  their  very 
first  impressions  from  their  oaths  and  curses — here, 
meat  perishing,  which  might  have  fed  the  hungry — 
there,  garments  mouldering,  which  would  have  clothed 
the  naked — in  one  place,  filth  and  nastiness  concealed 
— in  another,  valuable  furniture  tassed  about,  without 
decency  and  without  care  !  No  fortune  can  answer 
such  immoderate  expenses.  No  comfort  can  consist 
with  so  much  disorder.  "  A  good  woman  looketh  well 
<o  the  ways  of  her  household,  and  all  her  family  is  cloth- 
ed in  scarlet." 

A  turn  for  dissipation,  in  any  woman,  is  unseemly, 
but  in  a  married  woman  it  is  criminal  in  the  extreme. 
If  she  loves  her  children,  what  can  so  much  entertain 
her,  as  their  lively  prattle,  as  their  innocent  endearments, 
or  unfolding  their  latent  powers  ?  If  she  loves  her  hus- 
band, what  other  society  can  be  half  so  soothing,  or  half 
•o  delightful  1 

The  tour  of  a  woman's  gaiety  should  terminate  with 
marriage.  From  that  moment  her  pursuits  should  be 
solid,  and  her  pleasures  circumscribed  within  the  limits 
of  her  household.  So  much  as  this,  she  vowed  at  the 
altar  :  so  much  her  interests  and  her  happiness  require, 
A  wife,  who  is  always  gadding  about,  virtually  tells 
the  world,  that  she  is  unhappy  in  her  connexion  ;  that 
ker  vanity  is  most  immoderate,  or  her  taste,  most  de* 
praved. 

What  strips  this  union  of  its  sweetest  pleasures  ? 
What  makes  wives  and  husbands  so  indifferent  to  each 
other  ?   Dissipation. 

They  spend  so  little  time  together  in  private  /2ind  it 
*5  chiefly  in  solitude,  that  affectation  springs. 


LElTEfiS     T-3    A    YOLTWG    LV)/.  2ll 

If  a  man  after  the  business  anJ  fatigues  of  the  day, 
could  return  to  an  house,  where  a  wife  was  engaged  in 
domestic  cares,  and  an  attention  to  his  offspring,  he  must 
be  a  monster  of  snvagens.ss  and  stupidity  indeed,  if  he 
did  not  strongly  f^el  the  influence  of  her  virtues,  and  if 
they  did  not  convey  a  soft  rapture  to  his  soul. 

What  woman  is  most  really,  admired  in  the  world  ? 
The  domestic.  What  woman  has  all  the  suffrages  of 
the  sensible,  and  the  good  ?    The  domestic. 

If  [  wished  a  lady's  picture  to  appear  to  advantage, 
it  should  not  be  taken  when  she  was  dressing  for  an  as- 
sembly, a  levee,  or  a  birth  night.  She  should  be  hold- 
ing one  lovely  infant  in  her  arms,  and  presenting  a  mo- 
ral page,  for  the  instruction  of  another. 

Such  a  painter  would  give  us  the  finest  object  in,  the 
world,  and  wrap  that  world,  libertines,  and  stoics  in 
one,  general  admiration. 

LETTER  CVIII. 

\  A.M  not  at  all  snrprised  with  the  insipid  life  of  the 
parties  you  mention.  Their  case  is  by  no  means,  un- 
common. Nor  would  it  have  required  any  great  pene- 
tration to  have  foretold  the  consequences  of  so  hasty  a 
connexion. 

The  truth  is,  the  gentleman  was  strictly  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  world,  a  beau  a" esprit,  that  is  he  dressed 
smartly,  frequented  (what  is  esteemed)  genteel  compa- 
ny, and  public  places,  drank,  hunted,  ran  into  the  ex- 
tremes of  fashion,  and  had  some  fortune  to  support  it. 
In  proportion  as  these  little  matters  had  engaged  his 
mind,  small  attention  had,  you  may  suppose,  been  paid 
to  the  formation  of  his  heart  or  understanding. 

In  this  thoughtless  period,  it  was  the  misfortune  of 
this  poor  girl,  with  an  elegant  person  and  interesting 
manner,  to  fall  in  his  way.  She  was  beautiful  ;  nature 
had  designed  her  to  please  ;  and,  if  she  had  been  con- 
nected with  a  sensible  man,  might  have  been  moulded 
almost  into  any  thing,  that  captives  in  gracefulness,  or 


1  }9  i.L  ITEMS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY. 

astonishes  in  understanding.  Her  personal  accomplish- 
ments inspired  this  petit  maitre  with  ^fugitive  passion  ; 
his  fortune  was  competent ;  dissimilarity  of  tastes,  ha- 
bits or  abilities  never  was  considered  ;  tender  tales  were 
swallowed  by  her  artless  innocence,  and  his  addresses 
were  accepted.  After  a  verv  short  acquaintance,  they 
are  weary  of  each  other.  The  force  of  beauty  and  of 
passion  is  exhausted.  He  has  not  taste  enough  for  the 
delicacies  of  friendship,  nor  knowledge  to  entertain  a 
lonely  hour  with  edifying  conversation,  but  flies  to  the 
bottle  and  his  mad  companions,  for  pleasures,  which  it 
is  not  in  her  power  to  bestow  ;  whilst  she  poor  crea- 
ture !  has  leisure  to  brood  over  her  imprudence  and 
misfortunes,  in  still  domestic  scenes,  having  learned,  but 
alas  !  too  late,  that  rational  and  durable  enjoyment  is 
only  to  be  found  with  a  person  of  virtue,  principle  and 
understanding. 

For  my  own  part,  I  had  never  any  idea,  of  such  early 
marriages.  If  this  girl  had  seen  the  ~ivor}d,  and  a  vari- 
ety of  characters,  she  would  not  have  submitted  to  such 
a  connexion  ;  and  if  he  had  lived  single,  till  he  had 
learned  the  extent  of  his  own  understanding,  or  the  na- 
ture of  his  frivolous  and  criminal  habits,  he  would  never 
have  supposed,  that  mere  innocence  and  beauty  would 
have  satisfied  his  vagrant,  and  licentious  wishes  ! 

Besides  what  knowledge  can  a  girl  at  her  age,  have 
of  the  government  of  a  family,  or  the  arrangement  of 
domestic  concerns  ?  Servants  will  take  advantage  of  her 
inexperience  ;  and  she  must  either  be  made  a  dupe  to 
their  artifices,  or  from  a  narrow  system  of  jealousy  and 
suspicion,  she  will  lose  their  confidence,  and  become 
the  object  of  their  persecution. 

With  respect  to  the  other  case,  you  mention  with  so 
much  concern,  it  was  equally  nt«bable.  People  may  ac- 
custom themselves  to  speak  lightly  of  religion,  in  order 
to  be  esteemed  men  of  spirit,  aud  in  a  thoughtless  cir- 
cle, pass  for  very  excellent  companions.  But  when  a 
man  has  a  family,  such  a  levity  is  infamous.  If  he  be* 
iieves  his  own  principles,  he  cannot  fail  to  be  raic 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LA*)Y.  213 

unci  he  will  find  that  the  fence  he  wishes  to  break  down, 
is  that  which  guards  the  chastity  and  affection  of  a  wife  ; 
the  obedience,  morals,  and  attention  of  children  ;  the 
respect,  fidelity  and  principles  of  servants,  and  the  whole 
of  his  affairs  from  sinking  into  a  terrible  ruin  and  con* 
fusion  ! 

The  general  cause  of  suicide  is  a  total  v/ant,  or  an  un- 
fortunate fluctuation  of  principle.  Without  the  com- 
forts of  religion,  what  support  has  anv  man  to  lean  up- 
on, id  the  day  of  trouble  ?  If  a  person  accustoms  him- 
self to  sceptical  reasonings,  he  believes,  by  degrees,  that 
there  may  be  no  future  torments  for  the  wicked  :  and  if 
he  can  once  bring  his  mind  to  this  unwarrantable  per- 
suasion, he  will  be  ready  to  lay  violent  hands  upon  him- 
self, whenever  his  pride  is  hurt  by  any  fanciful  degra- 
dation, and  he  cannot  any  longer,  support  the  conse- 
quence, for  which  he  has  been  distinguished  by  his  fel- 
low mortals. 

LETTER  CIX 

1  WILL  now  give  you  the  description  of  an  happier 
marriage.  I  have  been  spending  a  few  days  in  a  fami* 
ly,  vt ho  have  long  lived  in  my  esteem,  and  of  whom 
you  have  often  heard  me  speak  in  terms  of  veneration. 

My  friendship  with  Eugenio,  (for  so  I  will  call  the 
gentleman,)  was  formed  in  those  early  years,  when  un* 
suspicious  hearts  vibrate  to  each  others,  without  cere- 
mony or  reserve.  For  his  lady,  so  soon  as  introduced 
to  her  I  felt  a  very  assimilating  partiality.  We  ming- 
led souls  at  our  first  meeting,  and  they  have,  never 
since,  discorded  for  a  moment. 

Eugenio  is  a  man  of  considerable  learning,  and  still 
greater  taste.  In  every  thing  that  relates  to  polite 
knowledge,  he  has  not  manv  superiors  in  his  age.  He 
is  complete  master  of  music,  painting  and  poetry.  In 
architecture,  his  skill  is  very  considerable.  In  all  the 
phenomena  of  natural  lmtory,  he  Is,  professedly  a  con- 
noisseur.    The  best  writers  of  Greece   and   Rome  lie 


£14  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

constantly,  on  the  table,  and  amuse  many  of  his  leisure 
houis. 

Nature  has  given  to  his  amiable  lady,  superior  un- 
derstanding, which  has  been  improved  by  a  good  educa- 
tion, and  polished  by  the  best  company  in  the  kingdom. 
Her  mother  was  one  of  those  uncommon  women,  who 
esteemed  it  her  highest  dignity  to  be  herself  \.\\t  nurse 
and  governess  of  her  children,  and  taught  them  to  min- 
gle accomplishments  with  knowledge,  the  ornamental 
graces,  with  domestic  assiduity. 

I  will  leave  you  to  judge,  what  must  be,  the  conse- 
quences of  such  an  union.  Think  how  Eugenio  must 
have  improved  such  a  worn  m  !  Imagine  how  this  lady 
must  have  blessed  such  a  man. 

Jn  this  family,  I  am  quite  in  my  element.  I  read, 
stroll,  think  or  amuse  myself  without  censure  or  restraint. 
I  feel  a  sovereign  pity  for  the  world  of  fashion,  and  for- 
get that  there  are  any  charms  in  ambition,  or  any  sor- 
rows in  disappointment. 

Their  fortune  is  just,  what  it  should  be,  for  solid  con- 
tentment ;  too  little  to  inspire  a  fantastic  emulation  with 
the  manners  of  the  great  world  ;  too  large  to  admit  of 
embarrassment  or  want.  It  is,  in  short,  neither  more 
nor  less,  than  1000/.  per  annum.  Their  family  consists 
of  two  fine  boys,  and  one  girl,  who  is  half  as  amiable, 
and  distinguished,  as  Louisa.     • 

Though  the  fashionable  world  would  think  such  cir- 
cumstances narrow,  yet  that  economy,  which  can  do 
every  thing,  his  made  them  very  comfortable,  an  1  their 
entire  complacency  in  each  other's  company,  rich  in- 
deed !  TIkv  do  not  dissipate  their  fortune  in  expensive 
journies  to,  or  by  residcr.ee  in,  the  metropolis,  and  are 
too  happy  in  the  me'ves,  to  be  frequently  seen  in  any  o- 
ther  places  of  dissipation. 

This,  mv  dear  Lucy,  is  the  happiest  of  lives. —  After 
aii  our  ambition,  and  all  our  struggles,  it  is  chiefly  in 
the  vhade^  that  we  must  find  contentment.  The  plea- 
sures there  are  calm  ;  they  are  pleasures  of  the  hear:. 

Their  house  is  situated,  at  two  miles  distance  from  a 


LETTERS  TO   A  YOUNG  LADY.  J  |  J 

considerable  town  in  the  county  of ,  upon  an  em- 
inence, which  commands  a  full  view  of  the  city,  hut  has 
its  aspect  to  those  woods  and  shades,  with  which  its 
owners  are  infinitely  more  conversant,  th^n  the  more 
noisy  scenes  of  dissipated  life.  Elegant  but  not  superb, 
and  spacious  though  plain,  it  expresses  the  cultivated 
taste  of  its  inhabitants,  and  the  hospitable  kindness,  that 
reigns  within. 

The  pleasure  grounds  and  gardens  are  in  that  unor- 
ramented  style,  which  to  me  is  always  particularly 
pleasing.  ^Nature  has  not  been  wholly  sacrificed  to  art, 
nor  wildness,  to  refinement. — The  wilderness  here 
and  there,  presents  you  with  all  its  shaggy  luxuriance, 
and  venerable  glooms.  You  rove  imbosomed  in  woods 
and  thickets,  and  are  singled  at  a  distance  from  every 
prying  eye,  in  those  silent  haunts  of  solitude,  which 
poetry  has  always  decked  with  its  charms.  Here  the 
hand  of  the  Creator  has  formed  a  grotto,  and  art  his 
not  destroyed  it  ;  there  an  alcove,  and  the  pruning  knife 
has  not  officially  separated  the  entwining  branches  In 
one  place,  a  little  fountain  murmurs,  at  its  ease,  and  no- 
thing has  attempted  to  divert  it  from  its  original  chan- 
nel. In  another  you  have  tufted  beauties,  a  cascade, 
a  lawn,  an  hill  or  a  valley,  beautifully  interspersed,  ex- 
actly as  they  were  formed  by  the  hand  of  nature,  in  one 
of  those  more  sportive  moments,  when  she  wished  to 
please. 

Through  the  branches  of  a  most  beautiful  hanging 
wood,  which  lies  before  the  house,  you  desciy  the  glit- 
tering spire  of  the  parish  church,  belonging  to  the'  vil- 
lage, of  which  Eugenio  is  the  patron,  and  a  very  exem- 
plary clergyman,  the  present  incumbent.  It  is  placed 
on  a  rising  ground,  as  if  continually  aspiring  to  that 
heaven,  to  which  its  excellent  pastor  is  always  calling 
the  affections  of  its  people.  It  is  built  in  that  go'.hic 
style,  which  1  always  most  approved  in  this  sacred  kind 
of  structure,  as  best  adapted  to  inspire  the  mind  with 
seriousness  and  devotion.  But  it  is  not  from  the  mere 
beauty  of  the  place,  or  the  deliciousnes  of  its  situation, 


§14  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

that  its  enviable  owners  derive  their  happiness.  They 
expect  not  from  shrubs  or  blossoms,  or  the  most  en- 
chanting scenery,  the  pleasures  of  the  heart.  They 
know,  that  the  richest  prospects  would  soon  lade  upon 
the  eye,  if  they  did  not  derive  a  fresh  and  lively  bloom 
from  principle  within. 

In  an  age  of  levity,  this  happy  pair  are  not  ashr.med 
to  be  thought  religious.  They  are  persuaded,  that  their 
blessings  could  have  no  permanency  or  relish,  if  unsanc- 
tified  with  the  smile  and  protection  of  heaven.  Their 
house  is,  in  fact,  a  temple,  where  prayers  rind  praises, 
are  regularly  offered  up,  every  night  and  morning,  to 
the  great  Author  and  preserver  of  their  lives.  Every 
servant  is  required  to  attend  the  service  ;  and  they  are 
all  occasionally,  instructed  in  their!  duties  to  God  and 
man.  They  have  likewise,  each  a  little  library  of  de- 
votional tracts,  which  have  been  presented  to  them  by 
their  generous  superiors.  I  had  the  curiosity  one  day, 
to  examine  the  title  pages,  and  found  them,  principally 
to  consist  of  the  Great  Importance  of  a  Religious  Life  ; 
Beveridge's  Private  Thoughts  and  Resolutions  ;  Tay- 
lor's Holy  Living  and  Dying  ;  Advice  against  swear- 
ing, drunkenness,  profar.eness,  &c.  in  little  tracts  from 
the  Society  for  promoting  Christian  Knowledge  ;  Will- 
son  on  the  Sacrament  ;  the  Christian  Pattern  ;  Henry's 
Pleasantness  of  a  Religious  Life,  ike. 

It  would  delight  you  to  observe  with  what  a  mixture 
of  love  and  reverence,  these  servants  approach  their  real 
benefactors.  You  hear  nothing  under  this  rool  of  those 
feuds  nnd  animosities,  which  so  much  imbitterthe  hap- 
piness of  families.  "  They  live  as  brethren  together  in 
unity. ''  The  only  contention  is,  which  shall  be  most 
ardent,  assiduous  and  vigilant  in  the  performance  of 
th.  ir  duty. 

If  Maria  (Eugenio's  lady,)  has  the  slightest  indispo- 
sition, you  might  read  it,  without  asking  a  syllable,  in 
the  anxious  looks  and  gestures  of  all  hjr  attendants. — 
She  was  lately  confined  with  a  nervous  fever  ;  and  it 
would  have  astonished  you  to  see   tke  unaffected   grief 


\ 


and  concern,  expressed  in  their  looks.  4*  \Vltit  (said 
they)  will  become  of  our  excellent  master,  if  he  should 
lose  the  most  amiable  woman  in  the  world  V 

The  piety  of  these  people  is  the  more  engaging,  be- 
cause it  is  always  cheerful  and  serene.  It  proceeds 
from  reason,  and  it  encourages  no  unnatural  austerity 
or  gloom.  It  is  mixed  v.iih  sentiment  ;  it  is  graced 
with  knowledge,  and  guided  by  discretion.  Who 
would  not  pique  himself  on  a  friendship  with  such  a 
family  ?  Who  would  not  wish  that  friendship  to  be  e- 
ternal  ? 

When  I  have  added  you  to  the  group,  !  fancy  my- 
self in  possession  of  almost  every  thing,  that  mortality 
can  give,  and  wish  only  the  continuance  of  my  enjoy- 
ments* 

LETTER  CX. 

M  ANY  people  of  fortune  are  uncomfortable  in  mar- 
riage, for  want  of  employment^  or  something  to  give  an 
interest  to  the,  otherwise,  insipid  uniformity  of  the  same 
excursions,  visits,  company,  or  entertainments,  This 
is  never  the  case  within  the  walls  of  Eugenia,  fie  \% 
always  introducing,  from  incidents  as  they  rise,  some 
useful  and  entertaining  topics  of  conversation. — A  news 
paper,  books,  the  garden,  flowers,  plants,  shrubs,  histo- 
ry, the  azure  vault  of  heaven,  stars  planets,  or  even 
common  insect  furnish  to  this  worthy  family,  ample  sub- 
jects for  observation,  ever  edifying,  and  ever  new.  His 
lady  has  taste  and  information  enough  to  enter  into  jjhe 
spirit  of  all  these  descriptions  ;  and  the  general  scene  it 
not  a  little  enlivened  by  the  mode,  in  which  they  treat 
and  educate  their  children. 

3VTy  good  friend  is  persuaded,   that   public   education 
as  it  is  generally  managed,  is  more   calculated  |to  teach 
languages   and   science,   than   to  inculcate   f>rinri' 
moral*  ;  and  therefore,  keeps  his  sons  at  home, 
*  have  acquired  a  sufficient  stock  of  virtue  to  serve    t! 

an  antidote  against  the  dangers  of  the  wovll.     Thej 


21,'>  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY, 

have,  however,  their  regular  schorl  hour3  and  exercis- 
es, which  are  observed  wiih  the  most  undeviating  punc- 
tuality. The  elder  of  the  boys  has  made  a  considerable 
proficiency  in  the  Latin  language.  He  has  abridged 
the  English  and  the  Roman  histories,  and  is  complete- 
ly versed  in  heathen  mythology.  15ut,  above  all,  he  is 
instructed  in  the  fundamentals  of  religion,  and  of  his  du- 
ty to  God  and  man.  The  scriptures  make  a  part  of  his 
daily  reading  ;  and  the  sensible  parent  embellishes  them 
with  such  a  number  of  striking  observations,  as  greatly 
interest  the  curiosity,  and  fix  the  attention  of  his  unvi- 
tiated  pupil. 

With  Kollin's  Belles  Lettres,  and  the  Abbe  Millot's 
Elements  sur  Phistoire,  he  is  perfectly  acquainted.  The 
latter  he  is  abridging  ;  and  Telemachus  is  warmly  pres- 
sed on  his  attention,  as  containing  those  immortal  les- 
sons of  virtue,  which  alone  can  dignify  any  character 
or  station. 

Eugenio  has  been  at  the  pains  of  throwing  select  parts 
of  Seneca,  Marcus  Antoninus,  and  the  Memorabilia  of 
Xeiiophon  into  an  English  dress,  for  the  advantage  of 
hia  little  family.  He  has  selected  a  system  of  Ethics, 
and  almost  of  divinity,  from  the  entertaining  works  of 
Addison,  JoTmson,  The  World,  &c.  and  the  arrange- 
ment is  so  excellent,  that  it  ought  to  be  made  public  for 
the  benefit  of  mankind. 

The  first  morniner,  that  I  spent  under  this  happy 
roof,  I  was  awakened   from   my   slumbers  by  the  soft 

harmonious  voice  of  Miss ,  who   was   chanting 

to  the  harpsicord,  an  early  hymn  of  gratitude  and  devo- 
tion to  her  merciful  Creator.     It  was   taken  from  the 
.*,   Spectator. 

Vv  hen  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God, 

My  rising  soul  surveys  ; 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love  and  praise. 


LETT  E US    TO    A    Y  O  U KG    LA  DY .  _  i  <  i 

The  whole  reminded  me  of  the  words  of  an  ingen- 
ious Poet  : 

J'entends  encore  six  voix,  ce  language  cnchanteur, 
Et  ces  sons  souvarains  de  l'oreille  et.du  co:ur. 
Her  voice,  th'enchanting  language  still  I  hear, 
Those  sovreign  accents  of  the  heart,  and  ear. 

This  is  her  constant  practice,  every  morning,  at  six 
Vclock  ;  and  it  has  the  happiest  effect  on  her  temper  and 
spirits,  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  It  soothes  the  soul  to 
harmony,  and  cherishes  all  the  gentler  emotions. 

Immediately  after  this  was  finished,  the  lovely  girl 
took  a  walk  into  the  garden,  as  she  regularly  docs,  when 
the  weather  will  permit,  to  observe  the  gradual  progress, 
health  and  vegetation  of  her  plants  and  ilowers.  I  re- 
quested the  honor  of  attending  her  and  was  amazed, 
\  oung  as  she  is,  with  her  knowledge  of  natural  history, 
and  with  the  judicious  remarks  she  made  on  the  power 
and  goodness,  on  the  wisdom  and  contrivance  of  the 
magnificent  Creator. 

Before  breakfast,  Maria  (their  mother,)  hears  all,  the 
children  together  read  the  psalms  and  lessons  for  the 
day.  To  this  pious  exercise  I  was  not  invited  ;  but  I 
doubt  not,  it  was  a  specimen  of  female  eloquence,  des- 
canting on  the  vanity  of  every  thing,  but  devotion  and 
glancing  at  the  dangers  and  temptations  of  the  world. 

The  employment  of  this  good  family  is  as  strict,  as 
usual,  and  not  less  pleading,  even  upon  Sundays. 

The  first  exercise  of  this  day,  after  the  accustomed 
hymn  of  praise  to  their  Creator,  is  to  abridge  a  few 
pages  of  Wilson's  Indian  Instructed,  or  of  Seeker's  Lec- 
tures on  the  Catechism.  After  the  service,  all  the  chil- 
dren gave  in,  to  the  best  of  their  power,  an  account  of 
the  sermon,  whVch  they  have  heard.  The  comparison 
of  their  different  merits  is  pleasing,  and  the  very  contest 
excites  emulation. 

When  this  is  finished,  their  father  instructs  them  with 
a  short  comment  on  the   lessons  of  the  day.     One  hap- 


220  LLTTElvSTO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

pened  to  be  the  history  of  Dives  and  Lazarus.  Very 
few  have  greater  powers  of  the  pathetic,  than  my  friend. 
He  brought  them  ail  to  tears  with  dwelling  on  the  pitia- 
ble circumstances  of  the  beggar,  and  poured  this  lesson 
into  their  softened  minds,  that  riches  are  apt  to  hardtn 
ihe  heart,  and  have  no  real  dignity  or  use,  but  as  em- 
ployed in  acts  of  mercy  to  our  neighbor.  He  gave,  to 
the  parable  at  large,  a  new  and  singular  aspect.  He 
observed,  that  luxury  had  led  Dives  to  unbelief,  and 
that  unbelief  bad  plunged  him  into  hell. 

On  another  occasion,  he  dwelt  on  the  scriptural  his- 
tory of  Hainan.  In  him,  he  expatiated  on  the  uncer- 
tainty and  fickleness  of  all  outward  greatness,  and  the 
insufficiency  of  honours,  stations,  popularity,  to  con- 
fc«  any  real  happiness  on  a  mind,  that  had  not  sub- 
mitted to  internal  government  and  the  discipline  of  re- 
ligion. 

M  What  a  trifle  (said  he,)  deranged  this  great  man's 
enjoyment  !  Because  a  poor  Mordecia  would  not  bow 
to  his  pomp  his  honors  lost  their  flavor,  and  the  digni- 
ties, their  charm  ;  his  sleep  went  from  him,  and  he  re- 
fused to  be  comforted.  If  his  passions  had  been  sub- 
dued and  his  soul  regenerated  with  divine  grace,  he 
y,ould  have  been  conti  nted  in  the  lowest  obscurity.  A 
cottage  would  have  given  him  more  satisfaction  than  his- 
palace.  It  would  have  been  Eradicated  with  hope,  and 
it  would  have  smiled  with  divine  consolations.',' 

Eugenio  is  constant  at  church,  and  his  deportment 
there  i  an  excellent  pattern  to  all  its  dependants.  His 
features  are  marked  with  a  serious  fervor,  and  a  cheer- 
ful dignity,  when  he  is  humbly  presenting  his  supplica- 
tions to  the  Author  of  his  being. 

You  would  be  charmed  to  see  how  the  honest  peas- 
ants dwell  on   his  locks  !   what  eulogies   are   expressed 

pyery  countenance  !  what  fervent  blessing  are  pour- 
ed forth  when  he  stops  to  inquire  about  their  families 
and  concerns,  and  uhut  earnest  wishes,  that  his  man- 
sion may  long  retain   him   for  its   owner,  and   that  his 

ivinuance  amongst  them,  may  be  lasting  as  their  days  ! 


LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

Not  behind  him  in  any  of  the  milder  virtues,  his  con- 
sort looks  up  to  him,  with  a  conscious  inferiority,  ftS  the 
pride  of  her  heart.  Blended  with  more  softness  her  pi- 
ty is,  if  possible,  still  more  engaging  ;  but  she  seems  to 
decline  all  personal  consequence,  and  to  bo  wholly  ab- 
sorbed in  the  superior  lustre  of  his  character  and  vir- 
tues. She  receives  the  prayers  and  blessing*  of  their 
tenants,  as  it  only  due  Co  the  man  of  her  affection*  ;  and 
though  the  zeal  of  the  populace  would  convey  her,  in 
their  arms,  yet,  when  Eugenia  offers  his  hand  to  as 
hef  into  the  carriage,  her  eyes  sparkle  with  peculia* 
cheerfulness,  and  strongly  express  both  her  love  and 
gratitude  to  her  protector  and  her  friend  ! 

It  is  no  wonder  that  they  are  so  much  admired*.  No 
wonder  that  every  tongue  loads  them  with-  blessings. — 
This  is  but  the  speculative  parr  of  their  piety  ;  the  prac- 
tical is  more  useful  and  more  engaging.  They  love 
their  God  ;  they  love  their  Redeemer,  and  for  hie;  sake, 
they  go  about  doing  good.  Not  a  tenant  expsriepces 
an  uncomfortable  year,  but  he  receives  a  consider, 
abatement  in  his  rent.  Not  a  person  is  injured  in  all 
the  neighbourhood,  but  has  cause  is  pleaded,  and  his 
wrongs  are  redressed.  Not  an  old  man  exists,  but  he 
has  something  by  way  of  pension^  from  this  virtuous 
family,  to  ease  his  infirmities,  and  pillow  his  declining 
age.  Not  a  great  man  endeavors  to  take  advantage  of 
a  lesser,  but  my  fri°nd,  who  is  an  excelh  nt  lawyer,  un- 
dertakes me  business,  and  exposes  die  oppressor  to  hii 
merited  contempt. 

Every  hour,  that  Maria  can  spare  from  her  particu- 
lar domestic  employments,  is  spent  in  making  garments, 
providing  cordials,  phycic  and  accommodations  lor  the 
naked,  the  sick  and  indigent  of  her  village  ;  and  there 
times  of  the  day,  in  which  you  would  conclude,  from 
the  vast  concourse  of  people  that  their  house  was  a  pro- 
fessed  asylum  for  poverty  and  distress. 

But  now  comes    out   the  great   secrets  of  their  n 
ness  ;  u  Alas  !*  said  this  good  man   to  me,  one  night, 
after  supper,  when  he  was  reviewing  the  actions   of.  the 
T  2. 


222  LF.TTr^S    TO    A    YOUNG    LAflY. 

dnv,  M  your  obliging  partiality  thinks  mc  happ^,  and  so 
inJeed  I  am.  In  the  tenderness,  friendship,  fidelity,  and 
discretion  of  my  M  irh,  I  have  more  than  the  treasures 
even  of  a  world.  But  this  swrtaoode  woul  1  soon  cease 
to  please-,  an  1  the  lovely  worn  m  1  ise  the  greater  p  »rt  of 
her  charms,  if  we  were  not  both  animated  wi«h  chris- 
tian sentiments,  an  1  if  we  di  \  not  contrive  to  relieve  the 
Strmeries**  and  to  dignify  the  littleness  of  life,  by  the  ac- 
tivities of  virtue.  Hi  it  divine  philanthropy,  which  H 
the  essence  of  relitrj  Mi,  is  the  source  of  our  pleasures. 
Aid,  when  I  drop  into  the  grave,  I  shall  have  but  o*v5 
single  wish,  that  th'n  amia  ale  guide  may  be  spared  to 
my  offspring,  and  th  it  the  poor  may  pronounce  a  last 
paoegvric  on  me,  urh  their  prayers  and  tears.  But 
how  very  selfish  and  how  cruel  is  the  desire  !  What 
would  become  of  the,  then,  lonely  and  disconsolate  Ma- 
ria ?  Alas  !  continually  together  in  the  retirement,  con- 
tinually endeared  by  growing  acts  of  tenderness,  j'ou 
cannot  think  how  very  much  our  hearts  are  united  !  But 
this  is  the  condition  of  all  hitman  happiness.  The  ten- 
derest  love  must  feel  the  bitterest  pangs  from  a  sepa- 
ration. It  is  the  decree  of  infinite  wisdom,  that  this 
world  should  have  no  unmixed  satisfaction,  to  put  us 
on  earnestly  seeking  it  in  one,  which  is  unfading  and 
eternal." 

These  are  the  sentiments  of  as  fine  a  gentleman,  as 
the  age  can  boast  ;  of  one,  who  would  do  honor  to  the 
politest  circles,  and  has  power  to  charm  the  most  im- 
proved understandings.  But  that  gentleman  is  a  chris* 
tiaru  He  has  learned  to  sacrifice  all  glitter  and  accom- 
plishments at  the  banners  of  the  cross.  And  this-  has 
made  him  so  charitable  a  landlord,  so  active  a  patron^ 
90  tender  a  husband,  so  agreeable  a  companion,  so  in- 
dulgent a  parent,  and  so  valuahle  a  friend.  Read  this, 
ve  conceited  coxcombs,  who  fancy  that  the  character  of 
a  gentleman,  consists  in  levity  or  wickedness^  and  blush 
at  your  mistake  \ 


LF.TTF.RS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY.  22  3 


LETTER  CXI. 

I  CANNOT  fully  satisfy  your  inquiry  So  far 
how -ver,  as  scripture  and  reason  will  be  oar  guides,  I 
will  endeavor  to  accompany  you  into  the  pleasing  spec- 
ulation. 

To  yon,  who  have  buried  so  manv  dear  and  amiable 
friends,  and  is  a  1  so  $kort  an  enjoyment  of  them  here,  it 
is  natural  to  enquire,  whit  voj  may  see?  or  know  of 
them  hereafter  ;  whether  y  )j  sH  ill  be  able  to  recognize 
departed  spirits  after  death,  an  I  wherein  the  joys  of 
heaven  will  consist. 

It  is  plain  from  sacred  writ,  thit  our  present,  earthly ', 
will  be  changed  into  ^'orient,  bodies  ;  and  our  soul*,  a3 
it  were,  sublhned  or  re-modified,  as  necessary  to  the  en- 
joyment of  future  bliss,  whatever  it  may  be.  Whilst 
therefore  we  are,  in  part,  composed  of  matter,  it  is  im- 
possible that  we  should  have  a  full  conception,  or  th  it 
any  adequate  representation  can  be  conveyed  to  us  in 
words,  of  the  real  nature  and  essence  of  such  pleasures, 
as,  in  fact,  are  only  adapted  to  minds  of  a  much  superi- 
or texture,  and  bodies  of  a  more  celestial  and  divine  or- 
ganization. Thus  the  scriptural  images  <v  of  thrones, 
sceptres,  kingdoms,  of  shining  as  the  stars  of  the  firma- 
ment, of  bting  clothed  in  white  robes,  and  having  palms 
in  our  hands,  of  feeding  in  green  pastures,  and  being 
led  beside  living  fountains  of  waters,"  are  not  to  be  un- 
derstood, as  constituting  any  thing  of  the  real  quality  oil 
future  happiness,  but  as  imperfectly  shadowing  forth,  by 
the  analogy  of  sensible  objects,  joys,  which,  both  in  their 
nature  and  degree,  or  wholly  raised  above  our  present 
comprehension. 

So  strong  and  literary  just  is  that  passage  ;  u  Eye  has 
;    not  seen  nor  ear  heard,  neither  has  it  entered   into  the 
heart  of  man  to  conceive  the  things,  which  God  has  pre- 
pared for  them,  that  love  him." 

The  same  idea  is,  in  some  degree,   intended  by  St. 
Paul,  when  he  says,  that,   "  when  carried  up  into  the 


LETTERS    To    A    YOUN  J    LADY. 

thin]  heaven,  he  heard  things,  which  it  was  impossible 
tor  man  to  utter  :"  lie  had,  it  should  seem  the  idea  of 
therii,  but  could  not  convey  it,  in  human  words,  to  the 
human  understanding.  It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know, 
thai  these  delights  will  be  of  a  spiritual  nature,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  supreme,  all-perfect  spirit,  and  adapt- 
ed to  the  fullest  capacities  of  those,  he  has  been  pleased 
to  glorify  ;  and  thev  be  exquisite,  as  unbounded  pow- 
er and  wisdom  and  goodness  can  bestow,  and  lasting, 
as  the  days  of  that  eternal  heaven,  in  which,  they  spring. 

That  we  shall  be  able  to  recdgnrze  Spirits,  and  amorigt 
others,  those  of  our  nearest  intimates  after  death,  is  prob- 
able  from  the  very  nature  o(  the  soul,  which  cannot  bu 
supposed  to  lose    its   consciousness  or  recollection,  w hi  1st 

the  body  is  sleeping  in   the  dust  of  the  earth from 

the  possibility,  xhat  an  exquisite  part  of  future  happi- 
ness  will  arise  from  reviewing,  along  u  fth present  friends, 
the  trials,  temptations,  and  sorrows,  which  we  over- 
came, along  with  them,  upon  earth and  more  espe- 
cially, from  the  atti  Unites  of  God,  which  seem  pledged 
to  convince  us,  by,  (as  it  were,)  ocular  demonstration,* 
that  those,  who,  we  are  Well  assured,  suffered  undeserv- 
edly, in  various  methods  here,  are  rewarded  hereafter, 
and  that  some  guilty  persons,  who  wanted  no  pros- 
perities in  tluj  world,  experience  all  the  horrors  of  an- 
other. 

To  this  doctrine,  there  is  but  one  weak,  and  ill-found- 
ed objection  ;  that  witnessing  the  misery  of  friends,  if 
they  died  in  a  sinful  state,  must  be  a  dreadful  abatement 
cf  our  own  felicity.  That  is  impossible.  'The  affec- 
tion betwixt  relatives  here  was  implanted  only  for  tern- 
pcrar/j  purposes,  and  will,  in  some  cases,  cease  after 
death.  The  only  attachment,  then,  will  be,  (as  the  on- 
ly rational  one,  always  was,)  tr»  souls,  that  assimilate  in 
real  wisdom,  purity  and  good  ness.  We  shall  love,  in 
our  degree,  even  as  GWioveth,  uot  with  the  weakness 
of  passion  or  instinct,  but:  the  unchangeable  sublimity  of 
order.  "  They,  that  do  the  will  of  our  father  in  heav- 
en, will  be  our  fathers  and  brethren,  cur  sisters  and 
mothers." 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  225 

How  glorious  and  inexhaustible  a  source  of  happiness 
does  such  a  prospect  open  to  the  mind  !  With  what 
rapture  will  a  tender  mother,  who  left  a  number  of  chil- 
dren behind  her,  with  a  thousand,  anxious  apprehen- 
sions lor  their  safety,  meet  them  in  heaven,  where  their 
innocence  is  crowned,  their  trials  are  finished,  and  their 
eternal  happiness  secured  !  With  what  dutiful  transports 
will  children  embrace  the  religious  parent,  to  whose 
counsels  under  Providence,  they  owe,  considerably,  their 
present  glorification  !  And  what  delight  mnst  it  give 
both  parties  to  reflect,  that  death  can  no  more,  divorce 
them  from  each  other,  nor  a  grain  of  sorrow  poison 
their  cup  of  bliss  !  Affectionate  brothers  and  sisters,  u?i~ 
avoidably  served  hereA  by  various,  important  exigencies, 
with  what  ardour  will  they  renew  their  natural  conneX' 
ion,  and  reciprocate  each  other',  joys  !  Not  a  fear  to  rise 
upon  their  future  prospects,  not  a  cloud  to  darken  the 
celestial  sky  ! 

Another  delightful  idea  of  heaven  is,  that  it  will  bring 
to  maturity  all  those  ami.ible  instincts,  which  were  plant- 
ed in  us  by  the  Deity,  whilst  we  were  on  earth,  but 
from  a  multitude  of  obstacles,  or  the  shortness  of  life, 
could  not  attain  their  perfection. 

Our  strong  thirst  of  happiness,  it  is,  on  all  rwnds,  al- 
lowed, that  was  only  mocked  in  a  world  of  shadows,  will 
be  fully  gratified  in  one  of  glory. 

It  will,  probc\bly,  be  so  with  our  passion  for  knowl- 
edge— friendship——  society — which,  when  properly  di- 
rected, are  equally  virtuous  and  useful  propensities,  and, 
therefore,  alike  proceed  from  the  Author  of  every  per- 
fect gift. 

How  eagerly  do  some  men  thirst  after  knowledge, 
but  how  much  are  they  retarded  i;i  the  pursuit,  by  the 
imperfection  of  their  present  organs,  the  we  kness  ot 
their  bodily  frame,  bv  the  long,  lost  space  of  childhood, 
and  old  age,  by  the  want  of  books,  acquaintance,  and 
other  opportunities,  or  by  the  transitoiiness  of  Hie  it- 
self!   or  when  all  human  advantages  cen- 
ter in  one,  privileged  man,  eidigir.eiud  as  he  may  setm, 


226  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

what  is  his  wisdom  but  comparative  folly  ?  When  con- 
trasted with  the  immensity  of  science,  and  the  inexhaus- 
tible wonders  of  creation,  what  does  it  resemble,  but  z. 
grain,  an  atom,  a  drop  of  water,  or  a  particle  of  sand  on 
ihe  sea  shore  ?  Here  we  see  but  through  "  a  glass  dark- 
ly." A  Newton  and  a  Locke,  after  all  their  improve- 
ments, felt  and  confessed  this  poverty  of  soul. 

But  how  sublime  will  be  die  pleasures  of  this  inter- 
course in  heaven,  when  the  greatest  men  that  have  ever 
lived,  are  all  collected  together  from  all  quarters  of  the 
world  !  When  there  are  no  little  em  ies,  jealousies,  in- 
terests or  bigotries  to  interrupt  their  mutual  concord 
and  improvements!  nor  any  languor,  fatigue  or  disease 
in  the  renovated  frame  !  When  the  Almighty  shall  have 
unlocked  all  the  treasures  of  his  wisdom,  all  the  secrets  of 
his  government,  and  the  wonders  of  his  grace  !  When  the 
soul  shall  have  received  such  fresh  and  superior  inlets  of 
intelligence,  and  u  we  shall  know,  even  as  we  are  known." 
The  wondrous  page  of  nature  will  then  be  plain.  The  book 
of  Providence  will  open,  in  the  most  legible  characters, 
on  the  enlarged  mind.  That  mystery  of  redemption, 
into  which  the  very  angels  have  been  desirous  to  look, 
will  be  unfolded,  in  all  its  abysses ;  and  the  conse- 
quence of  such  discoveries  must  be  an  inexpressible 
sensation  of  love,  astonishment  and  rapture.  "  We 
shall  not  cease,  day  or  night,  to  worship  him,  that  sitteih 
on  the  throne,  and  the  Lamb  that  has  washed  us  from 
our  sins,  in  his  own  blood." 

'i  he  case,  in  all  probability,  will  be  the  same  with 
friendship.  Friendship,  balm  of  this  uneasy  state  !  in- 
spirer  of  virtuous  thoaghts  and  counsels  !  medicine  of 
life  !  still  chequered,  still  imperfect  upon  earth,  mix- 
ed with  caprice,  with  passion,  with  insincerity,  and 
often  chilled  by  death,  (thousands  of  congenial  souls 
prevented  by  seas,  mountains,  reserve  of  sex,  bigotries 
of  religion,  peculiarities  of  education, from  ever  uniting) 
this  friendship  6hall,  there,  have  all  iis  fullest  poignan- 
cy, and  flourish  in  immortal  bloom!  The  amiable  of  all 
and  nations  shall  be    assembled  together,  frailties 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  227 

and 'death,  and  the  possibility  of  separation  wholly  done 


awav 


Think  only  of  the  expansion  and  luxury  the  mind  en- 
joys from  unbosoming  its  pleasures  or  sorrows  to  a  per- 
son upon  earth,  from  the  social  glow  and  confidentia- 
conversation  !  and  imagine,  for  a  moment  what  this 
privilege  must  he,  where  all  around  us  are  friends  — 
where  friends  arc  angels — and  angels  are  continually 
imhibing  fresh  streams  of  knowledge,  of  purity  and 
graces  in  the  presence  of  their  God ! 

Our  social  instinct  likewise  will,  doubtless,  have  a  sim- 
itar gratification.  People  are  drawn  together  into  soci- 
eties on  earth,  by  a  similarity  of  tastes,  pursuits,  habits 
and  improvements.  The  principle  is  natural,  and  has 
many  laudable  effects  ;  and  from  the  nature  of  the  hu- 
man soul,  which  will  probably,  be  going  through  suc- 
cessive stages  of  improvement  to  all  eternity,  may  be 
supposed  likely  to  continue  in  a  glorified  state*  Thus, 
though  holiness  and  purity  be  the  alone  medium  of  ad- 
mission into  these  blessed  mansions,  yet  societies  may 
be  formed  of  people  of  similar  improvements  and  con- 
genial tastes  ;  of  holy  philosophers,  (suppose,)  natural- 
ists, divines,  doubly  endeared  by  this  resemblance,  and 
carrying  their  various  researches  to  perfection,  in  a 
world,  where  knowledge  is  totally  unobstructed,  and  in 
the  presence  of  him,  from  whom  all  wisdom  and  all 
goodness  flows.  Whilst  the  different  mansions  of  heav- 
en may  resemble,  on  this  principle,  the  scattered  groups 
of  stars  in  the  firmament,  and  administer  that  charming 
and  exquisite  variety,  which  seems  to  be  the  wonderful 
plan  of  Providence  through  the  zvhole  creation. 

Thus  much,  at  least,  may  be  fairly  inferred,  that  the 
intellectual  improvements,  we  have  made  here,  will  not 
perish  in  the  grave.  We  shall,  doubtless,  in  this  re- 
spect, rise  with  the  same  views  and  habits  of  thinking, 
with  which  we  died.  How  much  men  at  present  dif- 
fer from  this  cause  alone,  so  that  the  least,  and  the  most 
enlightened,  almost  appear  creatures  of  another  specie;;, 
needs  not  be  observed.     And,  though  a  Boyle  or  a  Ba- 


225  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

con,  would  from  an  union  in  goodness  only,  be  happy  in 
the  conversation  of  the  most  illiterate  saint,  yet  on  all 
principles  of  analogy ,  it  may,  reasonably,  be  presumed, 
that  their  bliss  could  not  fail  to  be  infinitely  heightened 
by  the  society  of  those,  who,  like  them,  had  spent  a 
whole  life  in  laudable  investigations. 

But  the  grand  idea  is,  that  the  u  great  I  AM  will  be 
present  !"  He,  who  is  the  source  of  all  perfection  and 
blessings  !  He,  who  can  open,  in  the  mind,  innumerable 
avenues  of  hiconcelveable  enjoyment !  Whose  whole  cre- 
ation is  but  a  Ray,  emaning  from  the  plenitude  of  his 
happiness  and  glory,  and  who  will  certainly  give  his  chil- 
dren all  that  their  enlarged  faculties  can  admit,  of  plea- 
sure and  fruition. 

Here  we  are  continually  mocked  with  the  appearance 
of  happiness,  which,  on  trial,  is  always  found  chequered 
with  ill.  Here  the  sweetest  odour  has  attendant  briers  ; 
the  most  delicious  landscape  has  its  shade  ;  the  most, 
apparently,  finished  enjoyment,  its  alloy.  Even  the 
sweet,  engaging  child  and  friend,  dear  to  us,  as  our  own 
souls,  bring  inseparable  anxieties,  and  a  thousand  unqui- 
et apprehensions  for  their  health,  their  innocence  and 
peace.  Every  enviable  acquisition  is  followed  with  its 
trouble  ;  every  accession  of  fortune  or  interest,  with  its 
cares  ;  and,  in  the  height  of  seeming,  worldly  bliss, 
trouble,  still,  will  find,  through  various  chinks,  its  mo- 
ments of  admission.  But,  in  heaven,  all  will  be  unmix- 
ed, all  will  be  perfect,  all  will  be  serene  ! 

Such  is  my  private  c  pinion  of  heaven.  Such  is  the 
paradise  of  my  imagination.  If  it  be  innocent,  1  have 
a  right  to  indulge  it  ;  if  you  think  it  visionary,  yon  are 
at  liberty  to  reject  it.  If  it  be  an  error,  it  is,  at  least,  a 
pleasing  one  ;  and,  if  it  serves  to  comfort  life  or  excite 
us  to  any  laudable  improvements,  it  has  its  uses  in  so- 
ciety, and  must  ultimately,  promote    the  glory  of  God. 

1  he  pe  it  is  true,  because  time,  which  dissolves  all 
earthly  things,  is  ever  en  the  wing,  and  I  wish  to  have 
my  intimacy  with  you,  perpetuated  through  irrmnr- 
talitv* 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  229 


LETTER  CXII. 

I  AM  truly  concerned  for  your  indisposition.  Your 
nerves  are  relaxed,  and  your  spirits  cannot  fail  to  be  af- 
fected in  proportion,  The  complaints  of  this  age,  prin- 
cipally, arise  from  inactivaty  and  overindulgence.  We 
thwart  nature,  in  a  thousand  instances,  and,  in  as  many, 
she  retaliates  the  offence. 

We  almost  dissolve  in  hot,  carpeted  rooms,  instead 
S  continually  exposing  our  bodies  to  the  open  air.- — 
We  go  to  sleep,  when  we  should  be  rising.  We  invent 
artificial  methods  of  provoking  an  appetite  which  can 
only  be  excited,  in  a  proper  manner,  by  labour  and  ap- 
plication. And  factitious  amusements  are  vainly  bid- 
den to  create  those  spirits,  which  should  arise  from  ex- 
ercise and  air. 

This  may  ansv  er  a  temporary  repose,  but,  in  the  end, 
it  would  destroy  the  firmest  constitution.  It  is,  in  fact, 
undermining  the  very  ground  upon  which  we  stand, 
and  digging  a  premature  grave  under  our  feet. 

To  me,  who  follow  nature,  and  am  only  a  spectator 
of  the  bustling  scenes  around  me,  these  things  appear 
to  have  serious  consequences.  When  I  look  at  fine,  en- 
ervated ladies,  I  tremble,  by  a  sort  of  involuntary  in- 
stinct for  the  rising  generation. 

What  a  vigilant,  sysmatic  care  did  the  ancient  legis- 
lators bestow  upon  this  sex !  To  give  them  an  healthy, 
vigorous  constitution,  and  to  consult,  in  particular  situ- 
ations, their  ease  and  cheerfulness,  was  an  object  uot 
beneath  the  attention  of  those  heroes,  who  by  their  val- 
our and  their  talents,  governed  the  world. 

If  you  intend  to  have  any  comfort  yourself,  or  be  of 
any  solid  usefulness  to  others,  you  must  be  careful  of 
your  health.  It  is  a  plant,  that  requires  continual  nurs- 
ing, and  without  the  greatest  attention,  will  gradually 
die. 

You  must  not  dissolve  on  downy  pillows,  till  your 
frame  is  almost  thrown  into  convulsions.  You  should 
U 


230  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG   LADY. 

lise  with  the  dawn,  and  exercise  gently,  in  the  open  air, 
particularly  on  horseback.  A  little  cheerful  company  will 
amuse,  and  keep  your  mind  from  preying  too  much  upon 
itself.  Too  much,  on  the  other  hand,  will  oppress  your 
spirits,  and  aggravate  your  complaints. 

Above  all,  if  you  wish  a  removal  of  your  present  in- 
disposition, you  must  cautiously  abstain  from  tea,  par- 
ticularly in  mornings.  However  agreeable  this  bever- 
age may  be,  it  is,  doubtless,  the  source  of  weak  nerves, 
hysterical  and  hypochondriac  affections,  and  of  half 
those  dreadful,  paralytic  symptoms,  which,  have  lately 
become  so  general  and  alarming. 

Instead  of  languishing  in  elegant  rooms,  you  should 
frequently  be  strolling  into  the  fields  or  garden,  if  you 
would  avoid  the  bitter  draught  of  an  apothecary,  or  in- 
nocently rob  the  physician  of  his  fee.  Your  diet  should 
be  simple  and  moderate,  confined  to  one  dish,  and  that 
rather  animal,  than  vegetable.  You  should  eat  sparing- 
ly, but  often,  and  "  use  a  little  wine  for  your  stomach's 
sake,  and  your,  often,  infirmities."  The  town,  has 
doubtless,  contributed  to  your  disorder.  When  you 
return  into  the  country,  its  pure  air,  I  trust,  and  tran- 
quil scenes  will  considerably  restore  you.  Nature  nev- 
er intended  such  multitudes  of  people  to  be  crowded  to- 
gether, and  breathe  the  infinite,  noxious  effluvia  of  great 
cities.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  graves  of  mankind.  We 
may  exist  in  them  for  a  time  ;  but  it  is  only  in  the 
country,  that  health  has  any  thing  of  its  natural  vigour, 
or  life,  of  its  enjoyment. 

Do  not  tamper  with  your  constitution.  The  whole 
power  of  medicine,  in  your  case,  does  not  afford  the 
3hadow  of  relief.  Disorders  of  this  kind  baffle  all  the 
penetration  of  the  medicinal  fraternity.  When  they 
pronounce  our  case  nervous,  it  is  only  saying,  in  so 
many  words,  that  they  cannot  give  us  an  adequate  as- 
sistance. 

The  very  nature,  form,  or  texture  of  the  nerves  are, 
to  this  day,  by  no  means,  clearly  ascertained,  or  fully 
understood.     Perhaps,  they  compose  that  subtil  and  a- 


LETTERS    TO    A   YOUNG    LADY.  23  t 

mazing  union  of  body  and  soul,  of  matter  and  spirit, 
which  eludes  all  enquiry.  When  they  are  disordered, 
I  know  no  method,  but  to  avoid  all  extremes,  to  fly  in- 
to the  country,  and  kef  p  the  mind,  if  possible,  easy  and 
serene. 


LETTER  CXI  1 1. 

IF  I  had  the  opportunity,  it  would  give  me  great 
pleasure,  to  be  of  your  party  to  Bath.  But  indeed  I  am 
quite  fixed  and  stationary  here  ;  unable  to  move,  or  vi- 
sit even  my  nearest  friends.  Every  day  brings,  along 
with  it,  a  train  of  engagements  ;  and  almost  every  hour, 
substantial  duties,  that  cannot  be  omitted. 

Nature,  at  times,  is  disposed  to  repine,  and  think  such 
confinement  an  intolerable  hardship,  till  I  begin  to  re- 
flect, that  all  durable  pleasure  is  derived  from  employ- 
ment ;  and  that  the  only,  real  dignity  of  life  consists  in 
doing  good. 

They  who  are  continually  in  motien,  and  varying  the 
scene,  are  not,  that  I  can  discover,  more  satisfied  than 
myself.  They  carry  their  private  burdens  along  with 
them,  over  hills  and  mountains  ;  and,  when  they  have 
exhausted  the  whole  circle  of  pleasures,  still  there  is  a 
great  void  in  the  soul. 

1  was  once,  for  five  weeks  at  Bath,  and  recollect  it 
with  a  mixture  of  gratitude  and  pleasure.  It  was  par- 
ticularly serviceable  to  my  health  ;  and,  on  the  whole, 
made  impressions  on  my  mind,  that  will  never  be  e- 
rased. 

The  very  ride  to  this  place  will  amazingly  revive 
you.  Worcestershire,  at  this  season  of  the  year,  is  one 
grand  magnificent  garden,  whose  air  is  perfume,  whose 
scenery  is  blossoms,  and  whose  walls  are  the  spacious 
canop)Mof  heaven.  If  you  make  Bristol  in  your  way,  I 
dare  promise,  that  your  curiosity  will  be  amply  gratified 
by  a  sight  of  that  ancient  and  extensive  city.  Though 
the  place,  in  itself,  is  low  and  dirty,  yet  the  adjacent 
country  is,  perhaps,  the  most  picturesque  and  beautiful 


^32  LETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG    LADY. 

in  Britain.  Clifton  Hill  is  deliriously  romantic  ;  on  one 
side,  commanding  a  full  prospect  of  the  city,  and  look- 
ing, on  the  other,  towards  that  magnificent  ocean,  which 
brings  the  inhabitants,  all  their  merchandize  and  riches. 
At  the  foot  of  this  eminence,  you  will  descry  the  medi- 
cinal spring  ©f  the  hot-wells,  so  celebrated  for  their  e fii- 
cacy  in  consumptiv:  cases.  Here  yau  will  be  shocked 
with  a  number  of  walking  skeletons,  who  are  yellow  with 
sickness,  dying  of  consumptions,  and  breathing,  in  their 
sighs,  the  emptiness  and  vanity  of  all  human  things. 
Thus  is  no  human  pleasure  to  be  unmixed  ;  and  thus 
•are  thorns  to  be  imwined  with  the  rose. 

King's  Weston  Hill,  in  the  environs  of  this  place,  has 
lately  been  celebrated  by  a  poet.  But  the  copy  come3 
not  up  to  the  original.  Nature  has  painted  better  than 
the  bard.  It  is  visited  by  all  strangers,  not  only  for  its 
qtvji  magnificent  beauties,  and  wonderful  scenery,  but  as 
an  opportunity  of  beholding  the  sea,  which  here  opens, 
all  at  once,  in  a  grand  and  unexpected  expansion,  on  the 
astonished  eye.  If  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  have  a 
fine  day,  you  cannot  behold  a  more  sublime  or  striking 
curiosity. 

When  you  arrive  at  your  journey's  end,  every  thing 
will  delight  you.  Regular  streets,  magnificent  build- 
ings, sumptuous  public  rooms,  delightful  prospects, 
walks,  hills,  vallies,  fountains,  gardens,  company,  amuse- 
ments^ all  will  proclaim,  that  you  are  at  Bath.  You 
will  fell,  that  this  is  the  paradise  of  Britain  ;  and  that 
the  goddess  of  health  has  here,  more  particularly,  fixed 
her  abode.  The  mind,  it  is  true,  carries  its  secret  bur- 
dens with  it,  into  every  situation  ;  but  I  know  no  place 
more  calculated  to  efface  melancholly  impressions,  or  do 
away  the  bad  effects  of  over  exertion.  The  waters  are 
a  wonderful  cordial  to  the  stomach,  and  a  powerful  re- 
mover of  that  indigestion,  which,  to  the  studious  and 
the  fair  of  sedentary  lives,  is  become  so  very  general  a 
complaint  ;  and  the  mind  insensibly,  loses  its  little  fan- 
ciful burdens  in  the  general  gaiety  and  sprightliness  of 
die  scene.     There  are,  it  must  be  confessed,  many  ft|« 


1ETTERS    TO    A    YOUNG   LADY.  23  3 

-valids  ;  but  there  are,  likewise,  multitudes  of  young 
people  of  both  sexe3,  whose  manners  are  very  highly 
engaging,  and  whose  faces  wear  a  perpetu  il  smile. 

The  amusements,  to  which  you  are  admitted  at  a 
very  moderate  expence,  are  conducted  with  the  strict- 
est order  and  decorum  ;  ami  in  the  charms  and  splen- 
dor of  a  ball,  as  it  is  managed  here,  one  would  be  led  to 
fancy,  that  life  was  wholly  composed  of  pli-asure,  it 
it  did  not  occur,  that  all  this  brilliant  throng  have  their 
private  vexations,  and  the  heart  its  own  bitterness  xOhh* 
in* 

The  Abbey  church  pleases  me  more,  than  almost  any 
sacred  edifice,  I  have  seen  in  the  kingdom.  It  has  not 
the  g  andeur  and  magnificence  of  some  odors' but  it  is 
more  calculated  for  use,  and  yields  to  none,  in  elegame 
and  neatness. 

Lady  H  — *s  chnp  1  is  visited  by  all  strangers,  a* 
an  elegant  curiosity  of  the  solemn  kind,  more  perhaps, 
from  the  melody  and  sweetness  of  the  singing,  than  mo- 
tives of  devotion.  The  good  woman,  probably  found- 
ed it  in  the  bosom  of  pleasure,  with  a  view  of  calling 
sinners  of  distinction  to  repentance.  Her  intention  was 
amiable  ;  and  her  piety,  though  grounded  on  the  nar- 
row and  intolerant  principles  of  Calvin,  is  entitled  to  re- 
spect. When  people  openly  give  their  Money,  zeal, 
talents  and  labour  to  any  cause,  we  may  trust  their  wn- 
ccritrj.  Nor  would  criticism  exoose  the  little,  i/vo/un* 
tary  errofs  of  those,  who  scrupulously  act  up  to  the  dic- 
tates of  their  conscience,  and  have  thus  literally,  fc<  left 
ftll  and  followed  Christ.'* 

Lady  H ,  it  is  said,  has  mtirh  injured  her  private 

fortune  by  her  religious  generosity,  in  building  chapels, 
supporting  preachers,  and  many  other  public,  and  pri- 
vate donations.  Prudence,  surely,  did  not  v/arrant  so 
extravagant  a  sacrifice.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  ex- 
pose a  conduct,  which  so  few  will  ever  be  disposed  to 
imitate.  Over-righteousness,  is  not,  by  any  means,  the 
sin  of  this  age. 

I  was  indeedj  not  a  little  disgusted  With  the  preacher 
U  2 


23 i  LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

of  the  evening,  on  which  I  happened  to  be  at  her  lady- 
ship's chapel.  His  discourse  was  a  violent,  inflammato- 
ry harangie  without  elegance,  reasoning  or  connexion  ; 
and  consisted,  for  the  greater  part,  of  a  severe  abuse  of 

•.established  clergy.  We  are,  perhaps,  too  languid 
and  remiss  in  the  discharge  of  our  duty  ;  but  to   expose 

h  virulence  and  rancor,  is  not,  surely,  the  method  to 
reform  us.  Declamation  or  satire  irritates.  It  is  solid 
argument  alone,  mixed  with  love  and  gentleness,  which 
softens  and  converts. 

Tnese  peopla  have  not  the  gracefulness  of  piety.— 
They  display  not  in  their  looks  or  manner,  or  censures 
the  u  beauty  of  holiness."  A  severe  critic,  perhaps, 
would  accuse  them  of  spiritual  pride,  and  gi,ye  them 
motto,  "  Stand  from  me,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou." 
rr.r.ir  preachers  appear  deficient  in  general  knowledge. 
They  do  not  study  force  of  argument  or  embellishments 
of  style.  They  are  not,  indeed,  without  zeal  ;  but  it  is 
wild,  extravagant  and  frantic.  They  do  not  seem  "  pi- 
tiful or  courteous,  or  to  be  possessed  of  that  charity, 
which  thinketh  not  evil." 

The  greatest  disgrace  to  Bath  are  the  gambling  par- 
ties  at  the  lower  rooms.  Would  you  believe  it  possi- 
ble ?  You  may  see  people  of  the  first  distinction,  who 
ne  actuated  with  the  infernal  rage  of  pjay,  mixing  with 
a  set  of  the  very  lowest,  mercenary  sharpers  !  One 
would  suppose  that  their  pride  and  taste  alone  would 
not  submit  to  such  a  degradation.  But  so-little  is  all 
station ,  when  it  has  forgotten  its  real  dignity  ;  so  grov- 
eling is  the  human  mind,  when  it  has  lost  sight  of  the 
true  source  of  happiness,  and  u  is  hewing  out  for  itself, 
broken  cistern?,  that  can  hold  no  water!''  Even  Ches- 
terfield himself,  with  all  his  parade  of  graces^  was  a  dupe 
to  this  most  abominable  practice  ! 

The  Avon,  which,  runs  through  this  city,  filled  me 
with  great  ideas,  Shakespeare,  Stratford,  the  Jubilee, 
immortal  talents,  and  immortal  fame  rushed  into  my 
mind,  as  often  as  I  saw  its  soft,  flowing  stream  roll  si- 
lently along. 


LETTERS  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  235 

I  should  wish  you  to  take  a  view  of  Prior  Park,  as  a 
place,  which  has  so  long  been  sacred  to  science  and  the 
muses.  The  late  Mr.  AUen  was  the  Mxcenas  of  his 
times.  You  cannot  tread  the  ground  about  it,  without 
recollecting  many  of  those  celebrated  wits,  who  were  of- 
ten invited  to  this  hospitable  retreat,  and  entertained  its 
possessor  with  all  that  luxury  of  laste  and  luscious  flow 
of  soul  which  geniu?  inspires. 

A  great  character  stamps  an  immortality  on  the  pla- 
ces he  frequents,  or  the  houses  he  inhabits.  Piior  Park 
will  be  remembered,  when  its  elegance  is  mouldered. 
Fancy  will  plant  a  laurel  round  this  mansion  of  taste, 
which  will  continue  to  be  green,  when  the  mansion  it- 
self shall  have  crumbled  into  atoms. 

You  will  much  oblige  me  by  a  frequency  of  letters, 
whilst  you  are  at  Bath.  They  will  improve  your  owrv 
talent  at  the  descriptive.  To  me  they  will  give  a  more 
lively  recollection  of  pleasures,  which  I  once  enjoyed. 
They  will  retrace  upon  my  mind,  agreeable  scenes  and 
images,  which  I  have  former /?/,  beheld.  They  will  in- 
terest an  heart,  that  always  vibrates  to  your  pleasures  or 
your  pains.  They  y£Urt$&&ve  spirits,  that  are  too  much 
oppressed  by  a  varietyof  thoughts.  Whilst  I  read  them, 
1  shall  forget,  that  I  had  ever  a  complaint,  or  that  I  ev- 
er was  unhappy. 


END  OF  THE  LETTERS. 


APPENDIX. 


MINISTER'S  ADVICE 


TO   A 


YONG  LADY 


THY    winning  grace  will  lose  its  power  to  charm, 
Thy  smile  to  vanquish,  and  thy  breast  to  warm. 
The  reign  of  beauty,  like  the  blooming  flower, 
Is  but  the  pride  and  pageant  of  an  hour  ; 
To  d  ty  its  sweets  perfume  the  ambient  air, 
To  morrow  sees  its  shrunk,  nor  longer  fair  ; 
Such  the  extent  of/all  external  sway  ; 
At  best,  the  glory  of  a  short  liv'd  day ; 
Then  let  the  mind  your  noblest  care  engage  ; 
Its  beauties  last  beyond  the  flight  of  age  : 
'  1  is  mental  charm  protract  each  dying  grace, 
And  renovate  the  bloom  that  deck'd  the  beauteous  face., 

Let  every  virtue  reign  within  thy  breast, 
That  Heav'n  approves,  or  m:ikes  its  owner  blest ; 
To  candour,  truth,  and  charity  divine, 
The  modest,  descent,  lovely  virtues  join  : 
Let  wit,  well  tempered,  meet  with  sense  refin'd, 
And  every  thought  express  the  pjlibh'd  mind  : 


APPENDIX.  237 

A  mind  above  the  meanness  of  deceit ; 
Of  honor  pare — in  conscious  virtue  great  ; 
In  every  change  that  keeps  one  steady  aim, 
And  feels  that  joy  and  virtue  are  the  same. 
And  O  !  let  prudence  o'er  each  thought  preside, 
Direct  in  public,  and  in  private  guide  ; 
Teach  thee  the  snares  of  artifice  to  shun, 
And  know,  not  feel,  how  others  were  undone  : 
Teach  thee  to  tell  the  flatterer  from  the  friend, 
And  those  who  love,  from  those  who  but  pretend.* 

Ah  ne'er  let  flatt'ry  tempt  you  to  believe  ; 
For  man  is  false,  and  flatters  to  deceive  ; 
Adores  those  charms  his  falsehood  would  disdain, 
And  laughs  at  confidence  he  strives  to  gain, 
And  if  delight  your  bosom  e'er  would  taste, 
O  shun  the    vicious,  dread  the  faithless  breast ! 
Infection  breathes,  where'er  they  take  their  way, 
And  weeping  innocence  becomes  a  prey  : 
The  slightest  blasts,  a  females  bliss  destroy, 
And  taint  the  source  of  all  her  sweetest  joy ; 
Kill  every  blossom,  over  run  each  ilow'r, 
And  wrest  from  beauty  all  its  charming  power. 
The  dying  bud  may  burst  to  life  again, 
And  herbs  o'erspread  the  snow-invested  plain ; 
Green  leaves  may  clothe  thy  wintery  widow'd  trees, 
And  where  frost  nipt,  may  fan  the  western  breeze : 
u  But  beauteous  woman  no  redemption  knotvs 
The  wounds  of  honour  time  can  never  close  ;" 
Her  virtue  sunk,  to  light  can  never  rise, 
Nor  lustre  beam  from  once  guilt  clouded  eyes* 

Fix'd  be  thy  mind,  those  pleasures  to  pursue, 
That  reason  points  as  permanent  and  true  ; 
Think  not  that  bliss  can  mingle  with  a  throng, 
Whirl'd  by  a  tide  of  idle  forms  along  : 

*  Ladies  can  never  too  cautiously  shun  hypocrites  in 
love,  as  the  bane  of  female  innocence  and  virtue. 


338  APPENDIX. 

Think  not  that  Pleasure  lives  with  Pomp  and  State, 
Or  soothes  the  bosoms  of  the  rich  and  great ; 
Think  not  to  meet  her  at  the  ball  or  play, 
Where  flirt  the  frolicksome,  and  haunt  the  gay  : 
Think  not  she  flutters  on  the  public  walk, 
Or  prompts  the  tongue  that  pours  unmeaning  talk  ; 
Or  loves  the  breath  of  compliment,  to  feel, 
Or  stamps  on  crowns  her  estimable  seal. 

True  Female  Pleasure,  <  f  more  modest  kind, 
Springs  from  the  heart,  and  lives  within  the  mind  ; 
From  noisy  mirth,  and  grandeur's  route  she  flies, 
And  in  domestic  duties  wholly  lies. 
As  fades  the  flow'r,  that's  rear'd  with  tender  care, 
When  left  expos'd  to  storms  and  chilling  air  : 
So  fades  the  fair,  in  reason's  sober  eye. 
That  braves  the  crowd,  nor  heeds  the  danger  nigh  j 
Who  giddy  roves,  wi  h  Foil)  's  motely  queen, 
>»or  loves  the  transports  of  a  life  serene. 
Be  thine  the  friendship  of  a  chosen /hv, 
To  every  virtue  uniformly  true  ; 
Be  thine,  the  converse  of  some  kindled  mind, 
Candid  to  all,  but  not  to  errors  blind  ; 
Prudent  to  check  or  warm  unguarded  youth, 
And  guide  thy  steps  in  innocence  and  truth. 
Those  who  regard,  will  fulsome  language  wave  , 
And,  in  the  friend  sincere,  forget  the  slave  ; 
Will  make,  like  me,  your  happiness  its  care, 
Nor  wink  at  specks,  that  render  you  less  fair. 

From  books  too,  draw  much  profit  and  delight, 
iAt  early  morning,  and  at  latest  night  ; 
But  far,  O  far  !   from  thy  chaste  eyes  remove 
The  bloated  page,  that  paints  licenrious  love  ; 
That  wakes  the  passions,  but  not  mends  the  heart, 
And  only  leads  to  infamv  and  art  ! 
Let  Addison's  and  Johnson's  moral  page, 
And  Hawkesv/orthVi  pleasing  st\le,  the  hours  engage* 
From  Milton  feel  the  warm  poetic  fire, 


APPENDIX.  238 

Whom  all  the  nymphs  of  Helicon  inspire. 
With  Thompson,  round  the  varied  Seasons  rove  ; 
His  chaste  ideas  ev'ry  heart  improve. 
Let  tuneful  Pope  instruct  you  how  to  sing, 
To  frame  the  lay,  and  raise  the  trembling  wing. 

Such  be  thy  joys  ;  and  through  this  varied  life, 
Whether  a  maid,  a  mother,  or  a  wife  ; 
May  fair  content  for  ever  fill  thy  breast, 
And  not  an  anxious  care  disturb  thy  rest ; 
May  love,  the  purest  passion  of  the  ski^s, 
Play  round  thy  heart,  and  sparkle  in  thine  eyes  ; 
May  all  thy  worth  be  virtue's  sweet  reward, 
And  goodness  only  claim  thy  just  regard. 


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